Dude looks like a lady! Þrymskviða, retold!
by LadyLeafling
Summary: A curious question leads to Thor and Loki recounting the events of Þrymskviða: the comedic poem in which Mjöllnir is stolen and Thor, with the help of Loki, sets out to get it back. Includes crack, hilarity, and characters from other fandoms. Read and Review, please!
1. Prologue of destruction!

**Auhtor's note: I should really stick to doing one story at a time. That's all I've got...**

**Thanks in advance to all those who read, review, and whatnot.**

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_"After nourishment, shelter and companionship, stories are the thing we need most in the world." ― Philip Pullman._

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The Avengers—sans Thor because they'd learnt their lesson about bringing the god of Thunder out in public with them when there was food to be had—all sat together in Tom's Diner. They were chatting, eating, and being generally agreeable with the establishment's elderly owner, Thompson Thomas.

Waitresses walked up and down the aisles, some balancing platters decorated with food that could only be described as home-made and artery-clogging while others carried back empty dishes and dirty cutlery.

Tony tipped them handsomely and so they waited hand-and-foot on the heroes.

One of the waitresses—a tall, bubbly blonde with cute, knock-off Fendi heels and the biggest hoop earrings Bruce had ever seen—was clearing off the table behind them. It had just been vacated by an elderly couple who hoped to catch the 'Early-Bird Special' in peace.

She was as enthusiastic as someone who loved there job dearly. Smiling brightly, her glossy-pink lips shimmering in the light, she leaned across the table and collected the half-empty napkin holder for refills.

Bruce put his elbow on the table and his rested chin on the perch of his hand, watching her work with wide lovey-dovey eyes. She was like a nymph from the stories. Silky blonde hair that fell to her shoulders in luscious waves of glimmering gold; sparkling blue eyes that were as crystalline and beautiful as sapphires; a smile that could bring joy to even the dead—

"That one's got a nice pair of legs on her." As rude as Tony's comment was, it was true. The fair-haired Naiad did have long, tanned shapely legs.

Bruce watched the Genius-Billionaire-Playboy-Philanthropist out of the corner of his wary eyes as the roguish smirk on the other man's face grew in size and intensity the longer he looked at the waitress working behind Natasha and Clint's booth.

The red-haired woman leaned back casually in her seat as she took a long drink from her strawberry lemonade. The rubicund liquid in the cup drained half-way to the bottom where the sweet taste would be slowly diluted by the large chunks of ice that occupied the space.

Natasha, releasing the straw from her lips and putting her cup back on the table, offhandedly spoke: "That girl is probably _half_ your age and she can _definitely _hear you. So, not only are you lecherous but you're tactless and ignorant, as well..."

Only Nat could sound so cool when she was insulting people. Clint grinned cheekily at her joke as he gestured for Steve to pass him the syrup. As he took the half-filled bottle from the super-soldier, he caught Tony staring at him. "What?" The archer chuckled as he went to drown his blueberry pancakes.

Tony looked affronted, shifting testily in his seat and almost elbowing Bruce in the stomach. To everyone's supreme relief, the scientist moved just in the nick of time. Tony's elbow collided with the table instead as he intended. The raven-haired man went on speaking as if he almost didn't incur the wrath of a certain Green Rage Monster. "Riddle me this, Barton, why is it that every time she says jump, you say _'How high?',_" Tony's voice jumped a few octaves towards the end of his sentence; making him sound like a little girl... with a man's voice... _and a penis..._

"I don't sound like that." Clint said, rolling his eyes as he set down the almost empty bottle of syrup and began cutting into his pancakes. "And, I don't jump at her every command." Steve, Bruce, and Tony all raised their eyebrows pointedly—as if to say,_ "The hell you don't!_"

The archer balked for a fraction of a second before he regained his cool. "Don't look at me like that. I really _don't. _I just thought what she said was funny. Can't I be allowed to laugh?"

Even Steve snorted at his reply. "Whatever you say, Clint…" The super-soldier smiled as he went back to sketching in his notepad. The archer was unimpressed. Reaching over Natasha's plate, he made a childish move to steal Steve's sketchbook. The super-soldier spotted him moving towards his precious book and before Clint could even raise a hand to pluck it from Steve's slack grip, the bronze-haired man dropped his notepad on the table and caught Clint's wrist. In a show of his incredible strength and lightning fast reflexes, Steve pulled Barton and the archer jerked violently forward and slammed into the table.

Clint cried out in pain as the edge of the table banged into his pelvis and upper-thighs. Without his balance, Barton fell onto the many plates and cups on the table and ruined his and Natasha's meals in the process.

His and her cups went tumbling emptily off the table where the plastic cracked loudly on the floor. The table shuddered and bowed, under the blonde's weight and Steve's strength. It was over as soon as it started but all the normal-patrons in the diner gasped.

The waitresses looked as though they had been given word that the world had just ended. White as sheets and trembling like leaves, they stood gathered around the serving counter. Thompson grabbed his heart as he blotted sweat off his brow with his handkerchief. "Holy hell!" He exclaimed as he and a few waitresses came round to the table to assess the damage.

"Was anyone just a _little_ turned on by that?" Tony asked, fanning himself with his menu. Bruce smacked him in the back of the head on Natasha's request. Steve apologized profusely as Barton slumped, clearly wounded, in his seat.

"Oh, my god... Clint, I didn't mean to do that - I was just trying to warn you!" The super-soldier went on, apologetically, watching Natasha pull Clint against her side. He apologized all the more profusely at seeing how injured the archer looked.

Soon enough, all the waitresses began buzzing around to put things back in order. A woman with jet-black hair and piercings all through her eyebrows appeared at Bruce's side while a brunette with wire-rimmed harlequin glasses appeared at Natasha's. Together they cleared the table of all clutter, and afterwards, they unbolted the table from the floor altogether and replaced it with another less warped one.

After a little while, everything had settled down and Natasha returned from the restroom with Clint. His nose had been stuffed with tissues and his clothes, though wiped off, were sticky with various juices, syrups, and sauces.

Tony outright laughed at him. Natasha glared as she helped Barton back into the booth with Steve's assistance.

After they all settled, the blonde-haired woman that Bruce was ogling came to the table. "I hope everything is alright, now?" She asked apprehensively as she offered them all a friendly smile.

Bruce nodded, his glasses fogging as he stared long and hard at the woman's nametag. "Everything's fine... Ms. Caroline."

The blonde nodded cheerfully as she put her hand on Bruce's shoulder. "That's good to know. If you need anything, I'll be over there." She pointed to the serving counter as she spoke. "Someone will be over here shortly to replenish your table. Have a nice day." She was gone after that.

Bruce almost melted in his seat.

Tony raised his eyebrow, "Looks like someone's got a crush on the waitress." He chuckled aloud, when the scientist beside him slumped in his booth-seat. "_Ms. Caroline_? What are you, _five!?_"

"Stop being patronizing, Tony, before I have Steve smash you into the table next." Natasha threatened as she replaced the bloody tissues in Clint's nose with clean napkins from the container. Barton flinched at the mention of Steve. The super-soldier looked sullen at that.

Tony smirked wickedly. "You would want to see that, wouldn't you, Natasha?" His eyebrows waggled and the redhead threw Clint's shoe at his head. "Hey, watch it!" Tony gasped, ducking his head a moment too late and getting hit square in the forehead with a beige loafer. "Where did that even come from—Barton, didn't your parents tell you not to go out in public barefoot? ... Unless of course, you are, as I thought, _an elf_; then it would make perfect sense why you don't wear sh—" he was hit by the other shoe.

Tony swore before claiming the loafers as his. Sitting on them, the raven-haired man crossed his arms angrily.

Soon enough, the Avengers were swarmed by more servers as they went to cover the table with food. Since it was almost noon, no more was Tom's diner serving breakfast food. Hot dogs, hamburgers, pies and all other manners of Lunching were put onto the table and then the waitresses scurried off.

Bruce frowned as he wasn't able to thank Caroline.

"If you want her number, you could always ask." Steve suggested as he scratched at his notepad with a charcoal pencil.

"That's easy for you to say. You look like... _that." _Bruce frowned, slumping in his seat like a depressed teenager. "You're freakin' Adonis!—I'm... _me_... why would she want _me,_ if she could have a guy like you?"

Tony sucked his teeth. "Well, first of all, Steve's dating Alice still—I think they're dating? Hell, I don't even know what they call what they're doing."

The super-soldier bristled as he snapped, "I told you; we're taking it slow!"

Tony shrugged. "Yeah, but that's only 'cause you don't want her to run away to Dublin, again." His cocksure smirk was wiped away when Steve made to grab him. "Alright, alright. I'm keeping my mouth shut from now on. God, it's a wonder why I hang out with you guys when you're all such assholes."

A loud, _'EHMMPH!'_ echoed across the table.

As Barton's appetite finally returned after being brutally swiped away by his humiliation, everyone else began tucking into the new food that was brought.

"Mmm, these are pretty good..." Steve said surprised as he and Tony stuffed their faces with oversized chicken-nuggets and greasy, crinkle-cut french-fries. "Too bad Thor's not here to try it. He's missing out."

If Natasha wasn't as cool as she was, she would have almost choked on her rhubarb-pie at Steve's statement. Clearing her throat as she dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin, the redhead regarded Steve with a foreboding stare. "And, Thor will continue to miss out. You know he's not allowed out with us."

Bruce chimed in: "She's right. Every time, without fail, he manages to break something; especially, if he has that damned hammer of his with him. Why else did we get banned from _every_ MacDonald's in the United States?" He sounded bitter as he recalled Thor smashing several pieces of indoor-playground equipment and striking a cardboard-cut of Ronald MacDonald with lightning.

"..._We—_as in, all of us—were banned from MacDonald's? When did that happen?" Tony asked between mouthfuls of food. "I just signed a two-year contract with them, stating that they can use my image for their crappy-meal toys..." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Pepper's number. While he was talking to her everyone went back to talking about Thor.

"He doesn't cause any trouble when we go to MacLaren's," Barton offered, his voice sounding as though he had a bad cold: high and nasally.

Natasha grimaced before she told him to blow his nose. "Okay, _mom_." He said sarcastically, as he obeyed her command. Tony laughed at him, even though he was on the phone.

"Thor doesn't cause trouble at MacLaren's because he says he has _'only the utmost respect for establishments that serve mead.'"_ Steve replied as he went to choke down his iced-tea. As he lifted the cup to his mouth, he spotted someone behind him in the reflection of the embroidery painted around the brim glass. He paused, before turning around.

There she stood. Curly black-brown hair, scarlet red lips, and garish yellow\red waitress uniform. Her nametag read, _**"Max"**_ but she totally had the aura of a_ Darcy_.

Piercing, pale aquamarine eyes watched them warily, as _Max_ hawked over the table. She looked as though she was expecting them to steal something. "You guys know Thor?" She asked; her light, somewhat accented voice carried over the table.

Tony shrugged as he hung up the phone. "We're the _Avengers_, in case you couldn't tell by our civilian clothes. Of course, we **know** Thor... the question is, do you know Thor... _Max?_"

Immediately, the dark-haired woman grabbed a chair and pulled up to the table by Steve. "Do I ever! He was the wildest person I've ever met in my life!" She exclaimed, sitting the wrong way on the chair so she could lean her head against the high-back of it. "I hit him with my car, like, three times!"

Natasha rubbed her temples. She felt a headache coming on. "Shouldn't you be working?"

Tony waved off her scathing words. "How did you meet him, Max?" He asked, genuinely curious.

Max pushed her chewing gum to the side of her mouth so it wouldn't get in the way while she told him her story. "Well, my friend, Jane, and her boss, Dr. Selvig, were in New Mexico, and—" she was interrupted by Bruce.

"You know Doctor Erik Selvig?"

Max nodded like a puppy before she continued. "It was raining and pouring, and I couldn't see _at all—_" her arms waved animatedly as she retold the events in a way that only _she_ could. "And, then –WHAM!" She cried loudly as she crashed her hands together. "I HIT HIM WITH OUR VAN!"

Caroline, who was passing by the table with a tray filled with drinks, jumped at Max's shouting and almost dropped the mugs on the floor. Holding a hand to her chest, she hollered, "MAX! What the hell, you almost gave me a heart-attack!" Her chest heaved with her words.

Max smirked, "I guess we're even for yesterday when I caught you in my bathroom—" she made a rude gesture with her hands that had Tony laughing and Steve blushing. Not being able to handle this change in the conversation, Bruce excused himself to the restroom. Max laughed as Caroline stomped away red in the face. "I kid, I kid!" She called after her roommate. When she got Caroline's middle-finger in response to her words, Max laughed even harder.

Natasha hit her hand on the table. "Quiet!" She growled.

"Alright, alright..." Max said defensively. "Okay, so where was I... oh, right! After we hit Thor, we kinda didn't want to get involved with the cops, so we took him in and people-trained him... needless to say, it didn't work but it was hella fun."

Clint scoffed, "What could be fun about a gigantic, hammer-toting man-child?" Max smiled at him and, for some reason, Barton couldn't hold her stare. Blushing he looked away.

"He didn't have his hammer when we met him." Max explained, "I think that was a good thing. He probably would have pulverized us. I like my powder fine but _I_ wouldn't want to be fine powder."

"_He didn't have his hammer?_ When did this happen? Thor loves him hammer, I can hardly imagine a time when he wouldn't have it." Steve said with wonderment.

Max nudged him with her elbow. "He said he had been exiled from _Asgard,_" she snorted at the name. "So, like, we had to steal his hammer back from S.H.I.E.L.D—it was _insane_. After that, he was like MC Hammer _before_ all his belongings were seized by the IRS!"

Steve shrugged, "I don't know what that means." He said plainly. "But, I do know that Thor would never be without his hammer if he could help it. I'm sure, other than banishment, he's never been without it."

Suddenly, outside, the clouds turned an angry shade of onyx, as lightning forked across the sky in shades of pale violets and startling blues. "Speak of the Devil and he shall appear." Natasha muttered under her breath. Thunder rumbled and drowned out her voice. The waitresses and Thompson quavered with fear. A moment later, a raucous bolt of lightning struck the ground and sent pieces of the pavement skyward.

When the smoke cleared, Thor was seen kneeling-heroically in the crater that had just been made. As he stood, the sky cleared—and, the waitresses and patrons cleared _out_ of Tom's diner until all but Max and Caroline were gone.

The bell on the door chimed innocently as the god of thunder entered the establishment. His head was held high and his mouth was set in a firm line. "Friends, I have been seeking you lot out all morning!" His deep voice boomed throughout the diner. Thompson fled through the back door. "I was beginning to worry for your safety—that, perhaps, you all had perished at the will of a mighty sea-serpent...!"

Steve raised his eyebrow, "There are no sea-serpents here, Thor." He assured. "We were just having breakfast... and lunch."

Thor looked jovial... and then put-out. "And, I was not invited to this wondrous feast? Why not? Have I done something wrong, Sir Steve?" The puppy-dog stare that he gave the super-soldier was enough to make Steve's resolve crumble.

"No! No, you didn't do anything wrong, Thor!" He said hastily as he stood from his chair and ushered Thor over. "We were just waiting for you, actually. Right, guys?"

Everyone, except Natasha, nodded. "Yeah, we saved some pie for you." Bruce added as he and Tony scooted up the length of the booth to give Thor a place to sit. The god laughed happily and took a seat. Spreading his arms out, he almost smashed Tony's face in with his hammer. Paying the man no mind as he floundered and fell back into Bruce's lap, Thor said: "Why, thank you, my friends! I am most honored to be allowed to feast with you all!"

Natasha's eyes narrowed into slits as she glared at Steve and then Thor. "Remember, Thor: no fighting, no lightning, no harassing _anyone, _and finally—NO DESTROYING PUBLIC PROPERTY. You got that?"

Thor nodded before chowing down. He stole food off of everyone else's plates but it's not like they minded as most of them had already eaten almost half their weight in food. Bits of half-masticated foodstuff went flying everywhere as Thor ate and talked at the same time. _"Whem...I emquired...uhfer…wooh..wot...furry...swed...dat... I...schwould—" _

"Eh, could you finish eating before you try talking?" Bruce suggested as he wiped Thor's food off his face. The god nodded eagerly before he gulped down his meal. "You know... I don't remember you ever coming back to the table..." Tony said, hoping to change the subject.

Bruce shrugged. "Well, I'm back. So, let's leave it at that."

Max drained a glass of cola before setting it on the table. "Hey, I just realized something—" She exclaimed, standing so abruptly from her chair that she almost knocked Steve out of his. "Thor's here, right now, we can ask him about his hammer!"

Thor's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, "What is it that you wish to know about Mjöllnir, Lady Darcy? Have you lot been plotting?"

Max shook her head, her curls bounced with her exuberant movements. "No, no, no... We want to know if there was ever a Thor without Meh... _Meh-Jowl-Nur_... ugh, the pronunciation is stupid. Has there ever been a Thor without your hammer?"

The god of thunder sat in silence for a moment before he burst out laughing. Banging his hand on the table, Thor said: "Oh, but of course, Lady Darcy! Did you think me a babe with this hammer? No, I had to earn the privilege to wield a mighty weapon such as this." He hefted Mjöllnir into view and spun it around in his grip.

Tony yelped, fearing that Thor would kill him with that _thing_ if he wasn't careful. "Oft-times than not, I find myself misplacing Mjöllnir, as well." Thor explained, between masculine chuckles.

Clint looked perplexed. "You _lost_ your hammer? How in the hell is that even possible?"

Thor put Mjöllnir on the table and it sagged under its massive weight. "Mjöllnir has been stolen away from me, too. You see, Sir Clint, the things that cannot happen upon Earth and things that cannot happen in the other eight worlds differ with such absolution. A mortal man could never lift Mjöllnir; but the Jötunn, Þrymr, stole it from me with such ease, I am almost ashamed to say."

"Oh, my god. That sounds so friggin' _awesome!_" Max all but squealed as she bounced in her seat like a toddler. "What happened? How'd you get it back?" While asking all these question Max energetically ushered Caroline over and pulled the blonde into her lap as she prepared for Story Time with Thor.

Everyone perked up in their seats, in response. Tony turned his phone off as he mumbled over his breath, _"This ought to be good_." Bruce nodded in agreement while watching Caroline struggle in Max's decidedly strong grip. Even Natasha, who had decided to be a spoil-sport, was eagerly anticipating Thor's tale.

Thor looked at all their expectant faces and for a moment, it seemed as though he was considering it. "Hmm, while it appears that you lot would enjoy my tale to no end… but, I am afraid that I cannot, in good conscious, regale you with such a wondrous account. My apologies, my dearest friends."

"WHAT? Why not!" The all chorused loudly.

Thor looked shocked and then utterly disrespected. "Do not question me, mortals!" He snapped, picking Mjöllnir up off the table and lifting it high above his head. Lightning struck through the ceiling and supercharged the ancient metal until it glowing with a neon-blue aura of raw electrical energy.

Tony's hair stood on end and the playboy demanded that Bruce switch spots with him. As they bickered, Thor hit the table hard with his mighty hammer. Under its impressive, other-worldly power, the table along with the dishes upon it was blown straight to smithereens!

Everyone jumped back to keep from getting hit and wounded by the shrapnel. "My word may not be law; but I request that you all to respect it as though it were." Thor boomed as he stood. "I shan't tell the story and no amount of intimidation shall convince me otherwise!"

Steve, as good-natured as anyone, laid a friendly hand on Thor's shoulder and gently coaxed him back into his seat. "At least tell us why you won't." The super-soldier said carefully.

Thor looked at him calculatingly before the god of thunder was all smiles again. It was frightening; how his mood shifted. "Ah, it appears that I had forgotten my manners. My apologies..." Thor said, placing Mjöllnir on the floor beside him. "Very well, I shall tell you my reasoning and we will leave it at that—is that agreeable?" Everyone nodded slowly. "I would fail to do the story justice while lacking my dearest brother's insights of the events. I am only one and a many things transpired; I will miss out of valuable information. I am certain of it."

Clint pinched the bridge of his nose. "You need your _evil, colossal _douchebag of _step-_brother to tell the story? What did he possibly do to play such a big role in it?" The archer asked exasperatedly.

Thor regarded him with ever-narrowing eyes. "I don't understand the meaning of some of the words you used but I can discern from your tone-of-voice that you mean to insult Loki. For that, I must say, Barton—you, at present, appear mildly battered; would you like me to add to those injuries?" The blonde shook his head hastily. Thor nodded sharply. "As I thought."

Natasha gritted her teeth: "Okay, so Thor ruined our food, chased everyone away, and now he won't even tell us a damned story… what are we still doing here?" Tony shrugged. "Well, that's it, I'm leaving." She stood up and her heeled-boots crunched in the ashes and remains of the table.

And just like that, Thor was left by himself once again.

Pouting was beneath a god of his standing but Thor didn't care. He was sad that his friends had all went away. And all because he wouldn't tell them a story!

Part of him was mad that they would be so petty; the other part had a wicked thought in mind. Why not go get Loki, so they could _both_ tell his friends the story?

Thor had already taken flight when Thompson re-entered his diner to find it almost in ruins.

The old man dropped to his knees and screamed to the sky, _"WHY!"_


	2. Hospitals and jailbird Loki

**Author's note: Over six-thousand words and still I haven't gotten to the story-telling part. I'm beginning to wonder if I'm scatterbrained…?**

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_"We owe it to each other to tell stories." ― Neil Gaiman_

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It had been close to two weeks and the Avengers hadn't seen any trace of their godly friend.

Steve was beginning to worry that they offended Thor by leaving him but as he sat on the floor at the foot of his bed, drawing in his sketchpad while his girlfriend tried her best to distract him, he could hardly find it in him to focus on being guilty… or focus on sketching, for that matter.

Alice jumped on the bed like she was raised in a barn. She caught some major air, thanks to Steve's mattress. Flipping several times, she bumped her head on the ceiling.

After Alice figured that the bed was possibly the best and closest thing to a trampoline that she would ever see in her adult life, she started hollering like she was being run down by a serial killer.

Her voice echoed so loudly in Steve's reasonably decorated bedroom and left his ears ringing. The super-soldier tensed his jaw as he scooted away from the bed.

As he timidly dragged his pencil across the paper, not trusting himself with the fragile charcoal tip of the drawing utensil as rage slowly crept up his neck, Steve jumped when the bed sounded out especially loud under Alice's weight.

It sounded like a groan—like metal being bent beyond a point—and then that sound was followed by a loud **_SNAP! _**as one of the springs sprang and punctured through the mattress and bed sheets. It sounded like a bomb had gone off.

The neighbors would probably be complaining about this; there was no way they could have_ not _heard that. He would probably get his three-week's notice in the morning.

_Damn it._

Steve dropped his utensils as he abandoned his drawings. Standing up, he braced himself for what he could possibly see and spun around quickly. What he saw was Alice sitting on the bed, looking as thunderstruck as anyone possibly could. Her eyes were blown wide and her mouth was hanging open like a drawbridge. "S-Steve…" She gasped, looking at him with that deer-caught-in-headlights expression.

Steve went through an array of emotions. Anger and frustration because she broke his damned bed! Sincere regret because he didn't try to stop her from breaking his damned bed and now it was damned broke! And, lastly: smugness because silly people always hurt themselves doing silly things.

Steve stood and crossed his arms, preparing to chide Alice and do his 'I-told-you-so' dance—which he totally _did not_ borrow from Tony.

"I to—" Steve's words froze in his throat as he saw Alice's eyes brim with tears. She was clutching her leg as the look of shock on her face bled into that of utter agony. The super-soldier startled before fast approaching the bed. There was blood staining the sheets—probably seeping into the mattress, too—and as Alice clutched her leg, it stained her hands as well. "Oh, my god. What happened?" Steve asked, wholly concerned as he made to pick Alice up off the bed. Careful to avoid her injury, Steve pulled Alice up off the deformed mattress and carried her to the bathroom bridal-style.

All the while, the woman was babbling and sniffling. "Who has _springs_ in their beds, anymore?" She sounded hysterical. Steve couldn't blame her. She was losing quite a bit of blood; if the crimson stains she left behind on the floor and on his and her clothes were anything to go by.

When they arrived at the bathroom, Steve let Alice down and she went to sit on the rim of the tub. Swinging her legs over and resting them in the basin, the brunette hissed and whimpered. Steve rifled through the cabinets looking for medical supplies. Tony had come over to his apartment once and had ragged on him so hard; calling all his decorations and his knickknacks names that Steve doesn't have the heart to say aloud. After that visit, Steve actually got rid of everything and replaced it with more modern amenities.

Now, as he looked under the bathroom sink, he frowned and cursed himself for throwing his first-aid kit out. Sure, not many people had first aid kits these days but they were still pretty damned useful!—_"STEVE!" _He heard Alice call out for him in that frantic voice of hers'.

Steve sighed, his shoulders sagging. If this persisted; he was going to have to take her to the hospital.

Spinning around on his heel, Steve—with an armful of bottles and a box of Band-Aids—went to the tub and turned on the water. It gurgled and roared as it gushed from the faucet and began to fill the tub with lukewarm water. Alice looked at Steve warily as she watched him put the bottles on the rim of the bathtub, the labels faced _away_ from her. "W-what are those?" She asked breathlessly as she tried to crane her neck to see.

Steve shook his head as he pushed the bottles further away. "What you need," He answered vaguely before opening one of the bottles; a dark, coffee-brown one made of thick glass. It was filled mostly to the top but the seal on the bottle already been broken. A

lice didn't like what she was seeing. If that was a bottle of medicine which belonged to Steve Rogers, it should have been used up halfway already!

Her instincts were right as rain. There was something wrong with the contents of that bottle.

Why else did it hurt so much when Steve poured it on her wound? "HOLY CRAP!" She yowled as Steve emptied the _entire _bottle onto the laceration on her leg. To Steve's credit, he couldn't really see the wound until after the blood had been washed away, and still he managed to rinse the entire gash.

Not that that mattered to Alice. She was in too much pain to appreciate Steve's help. Wailing and yelling obscenities, Alice hit Steve on his broad back as hard as she could with her hands balled into tight fist whilst pain like no other sizzled throughout her leg.

Tears shrieked down her cheeks as she gripped his shirt in her hands and twisted the fabric until it almost split in her grasp. Gritting her teeth as she felt more than saw Steve move to open another bottle, Alice screamed: "Nah-uh… no more! It hurts, please, no more!" She was pleading. This was new. Steve felt horrible.

"But, I need to clean it and—" He was cut off when Alice grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

_"I NEED STITCHES!" _She hollered. "Does that look like you can put a Band-Aid on it and make it go away!?" She pointed to the laceration which was still oozing with blood.

Steve noted how wide and how deep it looked. She was right.

"Crap and I poured…" He picked up the bottle and read the label. "_Mouthwash_ on it." His cheeks reddened. Now that he thought about it, the bathroom and Alice did smell minty fresh. "I'll go start the car." He took off right in time to dodge the bottles Alice began throwing at him.

"Learn how to read, Steve!" Alice called after him. She cursed him and swore at him until she heard the front door slam. Afterwards, she hung her head and scooted towards the rushing faucet to rinse the Listerine out of her leg. "Idiot…" She muttered.

* * *

Steve sat in the waiting room while the doctors did there thing in the other room. Twiddling his thumbs as he bounced his foot on the floor, Steve sat hunched over in one of the tiny blue suede patio-chairs that lined the hall.

"Despite what you think you look like—which is a concerned boyfriend waiting on his girlfriend; in actuality, you look like you're having withdrawal symptoms." Came a snide voice in his ear.

Steve turned his head and found himself looking at yellow, red and white. He jerked his head back and realized that he was looking at someone's chest. He stared for a moment before finally looking up. He blushed when he made eye-contact with Max. "Uh, whoa… I'm sorry… I didn't mean to—"

She waved him off. "S'cool… happens all the time." Max said coolly as she moved over and took the vacant seat beside Steve. "Woo, these really are as stiff as they look." She muttered as she adjusted around on the chair. After she was sufficiently sure that the chair was as uncomfortable as it could possibly be—and that, no matter how she shifted, it would get no better than feeling like she was sitting on jagged bricks propped precariously on the hood of a car—Max settled back into the seat and grumbled. "So… what happened?" She asked Steve, looking mildly curious as she leaned on the armrest.

Steve looked away from her and at the wall of certificates that lined the halls of the waiting room. "Eh, nothing… she just needs a few stitches." He replied offhandedly.

Max raised an eyebrow before poking Steve obnoxiously in the arm. "'_Nothing'_ doesn't need stitches; what did you do? Oh, wait… lemme guess…" Her rosy lips quirked roguishly up in the corners. "Those stitches aren't going to be anywhere visible but they're going to be a _real pain_ for the both of you." She spoke in riddles.

Steve furrowed his own brows. "What?" He looked to her confusedly.

"You know... you rode that pony a little too hard and put her away wet—and when I mean wet, I mean _bleeding_—and, now she's got to recuperate." She winked. A few people walking by heard the conversation and gave the both of them the side-eye.

Steve sank in his chair; absolutely flustered. Max laughed.

Waiting until the nurses had gone by; Steve whipped around and whispered hotly: _"No, that's not what happened!"_ He sounded more embarrassed than he did mad.

Somehow, that only seemed to encourage Max's shameless thoughts. "Ah… so, were you guys, like, trying some kinky stuff and you hit her head against the wall one too many times?" She sounded giddy as she clutched the armrest nearest to the super-soldier and literally vibrated with exuberance.

The scarlet blush that covered Steve's skin then made him look completely sunburnt. "That didn't happen, either!—why do you think _I_ hurt her?" He asked, both mystified and agitated.

Max shrugged coolly, "Mhm… I dunno," She answered plainly. "I mean look at you; you're huge." She held her arms out until they were at full extension. "She's probably a teeny tiny girl… what's wrong with me assuming the worse when it comes to you guys doinking?"

Steve shook his head, "Please, don't say _doinking_ and she's not teeny tiny…" He trailed off.

Max latched onto that statement like she was a fish catching bait—or that leach that bit Barton on the balls last summer. "But, she's small isn't she?" Max smirked when Steve sank further in his seat. His back was the only thing on the flat mass that was said to be a cushion; his legs and posterior were hanging off and it looked absolutely painful and hysterical to all those passing.

Max snickered: "I know how all you big guys are. Despite being _huge_; you'll always go and get the smallest chick you can find. Personally, I think it's a good tactic. No matter how small your d—" Steve choked on a gasp. So did the children passing. Max went on, undeterred. "—is, when it's in her tiny hands, you honestly can't tell the difference…"

She turned to look at the wall of gawking middle-schoolers and then at Steve; who had slipped so far off his chair, he was on the floor. "Who do you think you kids are eyeballing like that…?" They scurried off immediately.

When Max looked at Steve, who was scrambling back into the chair, she smirked. "Did I say something _right_?"

Steve floundered and as if it were even possible his face reddened even more. "No! No way! That was wrong, Max—those were _children_; you can't talk like that in front of them!" He all but screamed at her.

Max looked offended and then she began to laugh. "Oh, come on, Steve; it's two thousand and twelve; they probably text worse things. My neighbor has a daughter with _three_ boyfriends. Lord knows how she keeps them all happy." Steve looked sick to his stomach. They both grew quiet for a moment. Max beat out a drum-solo on her leg before she jolted. "Oh, right! I almost forgot—you didn't tell me why you're _here _and she's in _there_! What did you do, Steve!?"

The super-solder glared. "I didn't do anything, Max. She hurt herself!" He finally explained. "She was jumping on the bed and wham…" He clapped his hands together much like Max had done the other day. She smiled as she recognized that her story-telling skills were being mimicked. Steve didn't seem to notice, he continued: "She not only broke the bed, but she cut herself on one of the exposed springs. As a precaution, the doctors are going to give her a tetanus shot, too."

Max's expression was unreadable for a moment. "Wow… she broke your bed _jumping _on it. I mean; I've always expected you to talk about having a broken bed but I was thinking _you_ would break it… and her back." She added the last part with a sly look in Steve's direction.

"Max! Enough…" Steve worried his collar as he looked away from the dark-haired woman.

She let out a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a whine before she stood up abruptly. "Crap, I forgot… I need to get to work. My shift starts in an hour." With a glance at her wrist-watch, she spun around and dropped to her knees in front of Steve. He startled and snapped his legs closed like a bear-trap. Putting her hands on his thighs, Max regarded Steve with enormous, puppy-dog eyes. Complete with shimmer and sad violin music in the backdrop. She waved the orchestra off and pleaded: "Can you _please_ give me a ride to work?"

Steve gave her a stiff upper-lip. "How did you get here in the first place if you don't have a car?"

Max groaned. "The paramedics that brought Caroline here gave me a lift. And you know as well as I, that as long as I'm not sleeping with any of them; they aren't going to let me bum a ride!"

"Wait… Caroline? You mean that girl with the blonde hair?" Max nodded carefully and Steve looked completely floored. The super-soldier stood up quickly, forgetting the position that he and Max were in. The woman made a little noise of shock before she was hit in the face by Steve's crotch and knocked onto her back.

Lying sprawled out on the linoleum; she looked up at Steve in wonderment. He, on the other-hand, seemed not to be aware of what was going on. "What's she doing here?" He asked, still in the previous moment.

Max rubbed her throbbing nose as she pulled herself to her feet. "Yeah… about that—Thor's been hiding out at our place with his brother ever since he sprang Loki from the cage."

Her wink in the super-soldier's direction went unnoticed as Steve stared at her wide-eyed. "Thor broke Loki out of prison!"

Max nodded impatiently, "That's what I said. He said and this is not verbatim 'cause he was speaking that Ye-Olde-English of his and I didn't recognize some of the words he used…" Steve motioned for her to hurry up. She rolled her eyes. "**_'With help from Dominic Purcell; he busted Loki out of Fox River, State Penitentiary'_**—whew, that was a mouthful…"

"Okay, now I can't even believe that!" Steve shook his head. "Why would Dominic Purcell help Thor—no, better question: why did Thor ask for his help? Even _I_ know that Dominic Purcell has never broken out of prison!"

Max shrugged. "Remember what I said about trying to people-train Thor? He's nowhere near potty-trained and he thinks actors are their characters. I feel bad for Christian Bale, if Thor ever meets him because he's going to throw him off a bridge and tell him to fly like a _bat_… even though, Batman never flies, I think Thor would totally do that. It would be hilarious… until Bale hits the ground… then it'll be horrible."

Steve looked at her critically. "So, Loki is really out of prison? … Then, why are you so calm about this!? He murdered handfuls of innocent people, _for no reason!" _

Max sighed. Suddenly, she looked weary, as she carefully rubbed her eyes without wiping the mascara off her lashes. "He's done the worse he could possibly do to me, already. He burned down my kitchen, ate all my cupcakes, _he called me fat—what an asshat—_and, then he threw my freakin' roommate out the window so now I'm going to have to pull all her shifts to make up this month's rent."

_So, that was why Caroline was here…_ Steve thought as he listened to Max's complaints. "That still doesn't explain why you're so calm. Personally, I would have tried to kick his teeth in—and then, I would throw Thor out of my house… _if that were possible_." He almost sounded ashamed towards the end of his statement.

Max patted him on the shoulder. "Ah… here's the thing. My pot-dealer is back in town and he sold me a family-sized bag for the price of a regular. I'm pretty stoked about that; especially because it wasn't family-sized like chips are these days, you know, where the bag is even smaller than old, non-family-sized ones are—no, it was _family_-sized, as in: if I had a family of pot-heads, I could share the whole bag with them."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Why are you talking about it in past-tense?"

Max smiled before scratching her nose. "'Cause I smoked like a ham, this morning…" She answered with a chuckle. "I tell you, Steve, I am so baked right now—and, oh my god, I have to get to work!" The dark-haired woman looked panicked as she watched the minute hand speed around and around… or, perhaps, it was the Chronic that was making time fly by?

"Why are you worried about being late?" Steve looked somewhat annoyed as his mind processed several things at once. Like, more importantly; what were they going to do about _Loki?_ He, who was certainly more important and more dangerous, than how Max would be getting to work. "I would assume that; if you sat around smoking pot before work, you don't really care about being employed."

"What do you take me for?" The dark-haired woman looked pissed as she poked Steve angrily in his rock-hard pectoral with her long, red-colored nails. "Some immature freeloading pot-head?" When she caught that unimpressed look on his face, she lost a bit of her steam.

"… Alright, so what I _am_ an immature freeloading pot-head—but, that's beside the point. What I'm saying is that I,_ at the very least,_ want people to give me the benefit of the doubt." The steam in her argument let out like someone had untied a balloon. "On second thought, don't give me the benefit of the doubt. The last person stupid enough to trust me lost three pretty, Egyptian-cotton towels." She snorted at the memory. "They are super-comfy, I'm sure they miss them."

Steve grabbed her by the shoulders. "Max, I need you to focus. Forget about getting to work. I need to know why Thor broke Loki out of prison. Has he turned on us? Has Loki put a spell on him or something?" He looked dead-serious.

Max respected that. She yielded: "Thor told me that he's ready to tell us the story. Give him the time and the place; he and Loki will be there."

"That's completely stupid…" The super-soldier's shoulders sagged. "And yet, it sounds exactly like something Thor would say." Any further conversation was interrupted by Alice's appearance in the hallway.

She was leaning on crutches and even then, she was being helped along by a concerned nurse. Her leg, from the knee to the ankle, was wrapped in thick bandaging. There was a glazed-over look in her eyes that was distinctly intoxicated. Steve felt guilt flutter in his chest. "Alice…" He walked up to the brunette and paused when the nurse eyed him warily before she turned and stalked away.

"I'm fine…" Alice murmured as she adjusted her crutches. "I just want to go home." She looked up at him, worrying her lip between her teeth.

Steve frowned contritely. "Did the doctor say you can drive like that?" When Alice shook her head 'no', the super-soldier sighed. God was conspiring against him apparently. "You can't go home, then… at least, not yet—I need to do some things first."

Alice raised a brow, "Like, what…?"

They were half-way to Tom's diner to drop Max off at work when the dark-haired woman remembered that she left her wallet back at home. Both Alice and Steve had groaned as the super-soldier was forced to turn the car around.

Luckily, Max lived in walking-distance of the eatery. Parked in front of the apartment, Steve shooed Max out of the car. "Go, get your wallet. We'll be waiting."

"Alright, alright, alright, alright…" Max whined as she unclicked her seatbelt and hustled out the car.

When the car door slammed behind her, Alice drunkenly climbed into the front seat the other had just vacated. Since she was high on painkillers, she was as coordinated as a sea-lion making vases on an old-fashioned pottery wheel; which is to say, she wasn't coordinated at all.

Her head bumped into the chair, Steve, the window, the dashboard—practically everything in the front of the car. When she settled into the seat, and pulled the seatbelt on, Steve looked scandalized. "What?" Alice asked aloof as she leaned against the car door.

"You hit me in the head… with your butt." Steve said, sounding really far away even though he was sitting right next to her.

Alice shrugged, "Whatever… things happen. When's Darcy coming back?" She looked out the window and at the shabby, brick building the other woman had disappeared into.

Steve cleared his throat as he adjusted the rearview mirror. "Soon…" Suddenly, his mouth set in a firm line "What do you mean whatever, things happen? You hit me with your butt; how is that something that just happens? Do you hit everyone like that and then brush it off as if it's a common occurrence?"

Alice furrowed her brows, patting Steve on the cheek. "Stevie, are you trying to start an argument with me while I'm high?" She smiled at him when Steve averted his eyes. "Are you mad 'cause you're still in the doghouse? It's not my fault, though, I keep telling you; I wasn't the one who suggested we stop sleeping together." She laughed when Steve turned the key in the ignition and started the car up again.

"I'm taking you home." He said curtly.

Before he could put the car into drive, Alice's hand caught his and together their hands rested on the gear-shift. She entwined their fingers and laughed. "Hey, does this remind you of something?" He pulled his hand away from hers' as redness spread out across his cheeks. She pouted, before looking out the window. "Hey! Here comes Darcy!" Tapping the glass, Alice waved.

"I liked you more when you were crabby…" Steve muttered as he unlocked the doors. Looking across to Alice's window, the super-soldier paled as he saw Thor and Loki bickering; trailing behind Max—who was guffawing hysterically as if the two gods arguing was a standup routine.

Thunder rumbled and the clouds darkened and roiled; the weather shifting dramatically from _clear-portraitesque-sunshine _to _I-shall-rain-on-you-forever-puny-mortals! _

It was as if the sky was a gigantic mood-ring that was constantly changing to match Thor's disposition.

Through the windows, Steve could barely make out what they were arguing about but when Max opened the car door and climbed into the back, the super-soldier frowned when his ears were invaded by the sounds of the gods engaging in a verbal-bout in their native-tongue.

Loki said something that particularly enraged Thor and the blonde shouted loud enough to drown out the booming thunder. Max covered her ears, no longer thinking the fight funny.

"What the hell, Max!" Steve yelled as he watched Thor and Loki politely pile into the car together despite their presumably harsh words towards each other. The dark-haired woman winced as she was pressed tightly into the door by Thor's impressive size. "I'm sorry… once they figured out I was leaving for work, they started following me around! What was I supposed to do? Tell that _not _to come with me?" She explained, sounding pained.

Alice leant forward in her seat and buried her face into her legs as she held her hands to her ears in discomfort. "Go…! Drive, Steve, drive!" She complained as Thor and Loki's voices reverberated throughout the car like a gunshot ringing through the hollow interior of a tank.

Steve put the car into drive and sped off. His ears were ringing as well, so he rolled down the window to let the sounds escape.

As they cruised down the street, Steve discovered that other drivers and pedestrians did not appreciate the godly dispute either.

No one said anything to Thor or Loki but they sure cursed Steve out as they passed.

"Tell them to shut up, you selfish prick!" Someone yelled as they sped passed on their Vespa. Steve scrunched his face up angrily.

Alice patted him on the shoulder before pulling her shoe off and throwing it at the rude passerby.

When it hit him, he flipped off his bike and spilled onto the road lifelessly. "Whoa, shit…" Max exclaimed. "I think you killed him!"

Alice slid down in her seat until she was out of view. "I think I did." She agreed with Max.

The drive to Tom's diner seemed to take longer than usual but once they got there, Max was never happier to see it than now. Opening the car door, the dark-haired woman almost fell out onto the ground. Quickly gaining her sense of balance, Max scurried out of the car and towards the café, her boots clicking on the pavement as she went.

It took Alice a moment to unlock the door but afterwards, she was racing after the other woman. "Don't leave me with them!" She hollered as she limped away. Steve found Alice's phone in her purse where she left it on the floor and he immediately called the Avenger's emergency number.

Okay, so it wasn't an official number but it was the best way to contact everyone at once. Bringing the phone to his ear, he waited 'till everyone answered.

"WHAT?" They all chorused on their respective lines.

"Avengers… _assemble!"_

* * *

"That is, without a doubt, the worst tagline I have ever heard." Max said frankly as she leaned against the back of the booth Tony and Loki were sitting on. Rubbing her fingers together as if she were feeling for the words, she shook her head disappointedly. "_Avengers assemble?_ Seriously, I could come up with that."

Tony snorted: "Yeah. I don't doubt that you could. What was the name of your blog, again? _Two Broke Girls_, with a cash sign as the 'S'? You're just as corny and uncreative as Fury, except you're hotter so you can get away with it." A few people laughed.

Max squeezed Tony on the shoulder. "Oh, thank you. You're not so bad-looking yourself. If I dated guys who were as old as my dad, I would totally think about nailin' you."

Barton choked on his water as he laughed aloud at Max's joke. Tony glared at the archer before he threw his own drink in Clint's face.

"It's like they _all_ have got your balls in a vice." Tony said humorously bitter as he watched the blonde across from him wipe his face off with some napkins.

Thor watched the exchange before reaching behind Loki and stretching his arm out until he could flick Tony in the ear with his forefinger. "That is not polite, Sir Tony." The billionaire flinched and tried to scoot out of Thor's impressive arms-reach. Unfortunately, he bumped into Alice—who had fallen fast asleep with her head and arms on the table. "Ugh, Steve why is_ she_ here? She's blocking my escape!" He complained.

Steve, who sat on the other side of his girlfriend, frowned and swirled his drink around with his straw. "I can't leave her by herself while she's doped up on so much Vicodin… _or, was it Oxycodone?_ They were literally giving it away, at the hospital_" _

Clint dropped his napkin on the table before nudging Steve with his elbow. "Sure, you can. Before Tony could buy of all his girlfriends with fancy drinks and shiny toys; he used to drug them and drag them around _Weekend at Barney's_ style." The archer grinned when Tony cursed at him.

"Steve doesn't know what that is, first. And second; I've always been loaded, so go screw yourself, Barton." Tony folded his arms crossly. "Do us all a favor and stop acting like you're a ladies man."

"I never said I was, Tony." Clint gave him a winning-smile… which was soon wiped off his face when Natasha arrived and took a seat beside him. They were sitting in a bigger booth, one big enough to seat eight people; all in all, it was still a tight fit.

Thor's size was to blame for that.

"Stop making that face, Barton, you look like you're in pain." The redhead said coolly as she picked up a menu and began perusing through the selections.

Loki laughed at this. Twining his fingers together, the god of Mischief leaned against the table. "It appears that the gang is all here." He said coolly.

"Bruce isn't here…" Max started to say but was cut off by Loki shouting at her.

"Silence, you portly loafer! If I wished for your input, I would have requested it!" His screech startled everyone—even Natasha; who tried not to look as shocked.

After everything had settled and Max had called him a _bitch_ under her breath, Loki continued. Slicking his hair back, he looked to the god beside him. "Thor, I must admit, I was beginning to miss them dearly. Who else would I torment, if not your little friends?"

The god of thunder rolled his eyes before putting a hand on Loki's shoulder and forcing him to sit back. "Hush, now, brother. You will have plenty of time for behaving as a nuisance and perpetuating pandemonium, later. As of now… we have a story to tell."

Loki looked pointedly at the Avengers and then he looked at Thor; his pale green eyes unreadable as he regarded the older god. "Very well…" He finally said. "Which tale are we going to regale the mortals with? We had a many adventures together … _dear brother." _He hissed.

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Is it me, or does it sound like Loki's coming on to him?"

Loki's head whipped to the side. He glared at Tony but didn't raise a hand to him… yet. "You have yet to see me _come_ on anyone, Man of Iron."

The diner erupted with laughter. Loki had no idea why. "Was it something I have said? Thor?" He glanced at Thor like a kicked puppy.

The god of thunder shrugged his mighty shoulders before he reached over and smacked Tony in the back of the head. The sound his hand made when it made contact with Tony's head was incredible—so much so, that the sound-barrier broke. The little explosion knocked Max into the table and she tumbled onto the ground. "OUCH!" She cried.

Tony fell lifelessly on the table.

Alice startled. "Huh… what… what happened?" She drawled drowsily. Steve shushed her before coaxing her back into her original position. She was asleep shortly after. "Is he dead?" the super-soldier finally asked as he looked at Tony.

Thor shook his head. "I don't believe so. I did not hit him very hard, I think." Picking up a straw, the god of thunder began to poke Tony. The man sagged and his head lolled to the side. Thor sulked. "On second thought, I am distraught to say that I may have slain our dearest Tony of Stark, after all."

"Ha, ha, ha!" Loki laughed cruelly and somewhat synthetically at the news. Coughing when Thor glared at him, the raven-haired god laid a frail hand on Tony's neck. "I will heal him-does this please you, Thor, me helping the mortals?"

Natasha scrunched her face up. "Stark was right. Every time Loki opens his mouth, he sounds like he's trying to get into Thor's pants." She offered Loki a smirk of her own when he sent heated looks in her direction.

Thor looked confused. Putting his massive forearms on the table he looked at Natasha. "_Get in my pants?_ And how do suppose my dearest brother would do that, Lady Romanoff? Whilst I am wearing them, Loki is much too large to fit in my trousers. Conversely; he is too small to wear my trousers if he were to put them on without my being in them."

Bruce rubbed his eyes from behind his glasses. "That's not what she meant Thor. Getting into someone's pants is idiomatic—" Max, who had picked herself brokenly off the floor, looked just as confused as Thor did.

The scientist scrubbed his eyes even more. "Idiomatic… you know… ugh, let me say it a different way. It's an expression we Earthlings use." When Thor and Max nodded in understanding, Bruce continued. "It means that—" He was quickly interrupted by both Natasha and Barton.

The archer reached over the table and snatched Bruce's glasses off; whereas the redhead opted for a safer approach. "What it means doesn't matter, Thor. Just don't take it literally!" She snapped.

Loki raised an eyebrow, as he tapped his somehow perfectly-manicured nails on the table rhythmically. "If the words you speak have no importance then why bother to communicate with us at all? Better, yet… why do you behave so aggressively, if you merely mean to tease or jest? Unless…" The smirk that spread across his face was wicked enough to make the Cheshire cat jealous. "…I am not the false-hearted one at this table, at this moment?"

Natasha glared at him before she picked up her steak knife and hurled it at his head. Loki caught it with ease before stabbing it into the table. "Ah, ah, ah… no need to behave as a savage as well as a deceiver, Lady Romanoff."

The only thing that stopped Natasha from jumping onto the table and attacking Loki was Barton holding back. It seemed though that the archer was moments away from losing his grip.

"Enough you two!" Steve hollered as he grabbed the Black Widow by her jacket and pulled her back into her seat. She went down peacefully; only to begin struggling when Loki began to snicker at her. "Natasha, stop! You're only prompting more of his insults with your behavior!" The super-solider growled before he pointed at the god of mischief threateningly. "And, that's enough out of you, Loki. Thor, control your brother or else I'll find a way to."

"And, now, I can comprehend why it is that they refer to you as _Captain_. You are so very demanding." Loki purred. Thor looked between his step-brother and Steve before he adjusted Mjöllnir across his lap.

The god of mischief looked to Thor as the blonde eyed him warily. "What are you implying, Loki?" Thor asked, genuinely clueless.

Loki smiled but never got to answer the question as Max chose this moment to speak up. "I think he's saying that he wants to doink Steve—and by doink, I mean sex. He wants to have sex with Steve."

Thor's eyes glossed over as he processed this. "WHAT!" He roared as he lifted Mjöllnir high into the air before clobbering Loki over the head with it. "Loki, you are not permitted to _come_ on my friends!"

The god of mischief flopped motionless on the table like Tony had before him; except, he was probably still alive. Unlike poor Tony.

"Thor, I think you meant to say _Loki's not permitted to come __**onto**__ your friends._" Bruce corrected. "Actually, that still doesn't sound right..."

Alice was wide awake now. Frowning as she leaned her heavily head on her hand, she yawned. "So… when are they ever going to get to the story?"

"After we take Tony to the hospital... his skull just collapsed." Clint grimaced as he scooted back as far as he could from the playboy's body.


	3. Story time with Thor and Loki!

**Author's note: I wasn't exactly sure how I was going to go about telling the story and making funny at the same time. I mean, **_Þrymskviða _**is funny… but, I wasn't trying to tell the whole story verbatim****_. _****I wanted this to be faithful but with a sense of humor all my own. Unfortunately, I'm not funny so it didn't exactly turn out as planned...**

* * *

_"A story has its purpose and its path. It must be told correctly for it to be understood."  
― Marcus Sedgwick_

* * *

Everyone settled around Tony as the billionaire was draped onto the lavish, king-sized bed in his personal Intensive-Care-Unit. Pepper stood concernedly at his bedside because all of the chairs had been taken by everyone else as she watched the doctors warily. They were settling Tony under the thick, fleece coverlets with as much care as possible as to avoid unplugging him from the Life-Support mechanism.

Pepper still didn't trust them despite their practiced movement and precaution. As soon as she was sure that Tony was properly settled under the eiderdowns, she shooed the doctors and hired-help from the room.

Turning on the others with her bloodshot eyes burning white-hot with fury, Pepper hissed at them like a snake. Her makeup was smeared and her hair was wild and flared out in every which direction—she looked like Medusa!

Max leaned back in her chair and gripped Barton's hand tightly in hers' as she felt honestly frightened by the ginger-haired woman; especially, when she began to growl at them. "Why the hell did you guys go and get him hurt?! I can't leave you all with Tony for a day without something bad happening to him—" Pepper went on like this for a half hour and no matter what anyone tried to do she would not be interrupted.

Bruce tried apologizing; she threw a book at him.

He had to excuse himself from the room momentarily to regain his calm or else he would've turn into the 'other guy'—and then things would just get messy and unpleasant. Steve tried reasoning but Alice quickly deterred him; whispering to him under her breath when Pepper wasn't looking that no good would come out of trying to speak to the business-woman when she was going off like she was.

Clint was wise not to open his mouth but Pepper still said something sarcastic and offensive to him. She said something about him looking too nonchalant about the situation made her pissed off.

"Then why don't you hit Nat!?" The archer exclaimed. He was karate-chopped in the neck by both of the redheads.

Even Loki—who thought himself above Pepper's lectures—tried his hand at getting the business-woman to quiet down and relax… and he ended up failing miserably. She shouted threats and obscenities that transcended the ambiguous culture and language barrier between them. Thor flinched at her words and they weren't even meant for him. After the woman screamed herself hoarse calling him the rudest things, Pepper settled for grunting and glaring at him. As soon as her throat had been rehabilitated; Loki was going to get another earful for sure.

After Thor recovered from his own staggering disbelief, he turned to Loki—and found that the god of mischief had an expression that was a mixture of horror and misery. Thor hadn't seen Loki's eyes blown so wide with shock since the two of them walked in on Odin and Schmitt. Or as Steve had referred to him: The Red Skull. "Brother…" Thor started to say.

It was as though his thunderous voice had flipped a switch in Loki's head. One moment, Loki was brain-dead, the next instant: he was going red in the face with scorching resentment. Enraged, the raven-haired god hollered at Pepper. "You _dare_ speak to me like that, you… you…!"

_"You… what?!"_ Pepper croaked challengingly; her voice barely louder than a whisper. She folded her arms across her chest angrily.

Loki gritted his teeth before calling the woman a word that had Thor gasping. "Brother, we do not say such foul things about mortal women!" He hit Loki in the face with Mjöllnir again and the god of mischief hit the floor with a loud **_BANG!_**

Pepper smirked smugly. And then, Thor went on to say: "… even if it is absolutely correct."

She was no longer smiling. Pepper reached for the fair-haired divinity. The festooned chopsticks that kept her hair bound tinkled as her head moved. It was like the rattling of a snake's tail. "What did he say, Thor? Huh?" She squawked.

Natasha gritted her teeth. "Everyone, please—shut the hell up! Ms. Potts, go sit down somewhere. Loki, stop being an asshole. And, Thor, please tell us the story so we can return Loki back to Fox River and go home." She sounded miserable.

Thor nodded. "Though, our dearest Anthony will miss out on our phenomenal tale, I do believe that Loki and I have made an agreement with you lot." The god of thunder looked to his step-brother, who was picking himself off the ground; grumbling and dusting himself off as he got to his feet.

Making sure that Loki wouldn't try to bolt for the door—or the windows—like he did earlier when they all had piled into the room, Thor cleared his throat.

Everyone startled.

All eyes were on trained on Thor, now. He smiled. "Since we are burning daylight; I see no reason to stall any longer. Loki and I give you all, for your entertainment pleasure, _Þrymskviða_—!"

* * *

—**The dawn was breathtaking: picturesque. A flamboyant vision from deep within an artist's mind as it spread out overhead like a thick velvet quilt. The sky was an array of colors. From powder blue to a deep, magnificent shade of deep sapphire; the two tones blended together flawlessly. Painted across the arrangement of shades were fluffy clouds. They were immense and looked to be made of cotton and as the world turned; the pristinely-white swells of vapor danced and swirled throughout the sky like standards swaying in exuberant zephyrs. **

**As the sun inched its way up the horizon; the coloring of the sky bled from blue to breathtaking shades of vibrant vermillion, sparkling gold and twirling ochre. **

**Sunlight poured into Thor's bedroom and the blonde turned over in his bed. He was completely comfortable sleeping in his extravagant boudoir. **

**The walls and floors were made of sterling marble; the windows and doors were as tall as they were wide, and the frames were gilded. His bed was gigantic and soft. The thick pelt rugs that covered him and the spacious mattress he laid upon were feather-soft and elicited the most guttural of purrs from him as they slid against his bare skin with every turn and shift of his body. **

**Occasionally, the god wondered why he would ever want to get out of bed. As he snuggled his face into the piles and piles of goose-feather pillows that rested under his head, Thor thought that this was one of those occasions. His body seemed to agree with his mind; he felt heavy and sluggish even as he turned to put his back to the window and the accursed beams of sunlight it let in. His body felt positively boneless; like his well-toned muscles were made of mounds of jam.**

**Breathing in the smells of morning and masculinity, Thor reached a questing hand out for Mjöllnir and found his hand grasping air. At first, he thought nothing of it. **

**Groping around a little longer, Thor supposed he would find his beloved hammer just where he had left it; on the other side of his bed. But the longer he gripped naught, the more troubled he became. Finally, his blue eyes sprang open and he gasped! **

**Mjöllnir truly was not there! **

**There was an imprint in the bed where the mighty hammer had been—but that was it. **

**"This is preposterous!" Thor said aloud as he sat upright. The covers fell from his shoulders and pooled around his waist; not that he noticed. **

**The god jumped from the bed and landed loudly but gracefully onto his feet. "Mjöllnir!" He called out as if the hammer could answer him. He searched his decadent bedchamber for the better half of the sunrise before Thor finally conceded with a bitter curse. "It is gone… Mjöllnir has been stolen!" He exclaimed, balling his great hands into fists.**

**Loki knocked on his door, moments later; acting as a wakeup call for the God of Thunder as was customary with them. "Oh, Thor, it is getting to be terribly late. If you wish to break your fast with the rest of us, you'd best make yourself proper and join us in the feasting hall." The raven-haired god's voice was muffled behind the thick, stout door.**

**Thor startled at hearing the knock and then Loki's voice. "Uh… just a moment..." He quickly said, checking under his bed one last time for Mjöllnir. **

**Surely, Loki would know something was amiss if he did not answer the door with his beloved hammer as he usually did. **

**When he heard Loki whistling impatiently on the other side of the door, Thor decided to tell his dearest brother what was happening. Surely, Loki would take pity on him and help him locate Mjöllnir; and if he did not, Thor had ways of convincing his step-brother. ****_Oh, yes… he did._**

**Crossing the length of his room, Thor pulled the door open and yanked Loki inside the room with a quick tug on his glimmering gold-collar. The slighter male stumbled as he crossed the threshold of the door—Loki didn't have time to react, however, as Thor was reaching passed him and slamming the door closed. Afterwards, Loki found himself being pushed up against the door by Thor's impressive form. ****_Not that he was looking. _**

**Miraculously, Thor was able to do all of that without ever releasing Loki's collar from his grasp. Holding him, at the present, the god of Thunder lifted the raven-haired male until his feet could no longer touch the floor. "Loki! I bare the worst of news!" Thor exclaimed.**

**Loki coughed and struggled as Thor's knuckles dug into his neck. ****_What a way to greet your step-brother…_**** he thought wryly as he reached up and grabbed Thor's meaty wrists. "Let me… down… you lumbering lout!" He wheezed as he tried to pry the fair-haired male's strong hands off of him.**

**Thor remembered himself and did exactly what he was told. Letting go of Loki's collar, he stepped away from the god of mischief and watched how he crumbled to the floor. "My apologies, dearest brother; I am… not myself, as of late." Thor stepped away from Loki and stalked towards the window. **

**There he pulled the window open and basked in the cool gusts of wind and broiling beams of sunlight that streamed into his boudoir. **

**Loki sat on the marble, massaging his sore neck—the entire time he was there, he noticed Thor's current state of undress. His rippling muscles, his robust physique, his tanned skin… **

**Loki's cheeks threatened to darken with embarrassment but Loki was the master of his own body; he would never blush at the sight of seeing Thor naked—****_never!_**

**Suddenly, the wind started blowing a little harder. It swept up the prince of Asgard's golden-mane and made it flutter gracefully behind him like silk in the wind. Loki gritted his teeth, knowing that he failed himself as warmth spread out across his face. **

**Standing, the god of mischief went to Thor's bed and retrieved a shaggy throw from it. Approaching the god of thunder, Loki began to speak: "What has happened, Thor? Has Heimdall taken to cutting an inch off one of your table's legs, again?" **

**Thor shook his head morosely. "No, it is not that. Though, I do****_ loathe_**** it when a good, sturdy table wobbles so… I fear that it is something much worse." As he felt Loki drape the rug onto his shoulder, he spun around and caught the slight male by the shoulders. **

**"Should I be worried…?" Loki trailed when his eyes were drawn below Thor's waistband—or lack thereof. The god of mischief pulled a face as he noticed just how exposed Thor's nether-region was. And yet, he didn't immediately look away from it. **

**It was like watching trolls eat; despite how repulsive it was, it was also so… ****_mesmerizing_****. **

**Loki's eyes snapped back up when Thor went on. "I would be offended if you were not!—Mjöllnir is absent from my chambers, Loki! How is that so?"**

**Loki shrugged. "You could have simply misplaced it, dear brother; like you misplaced your clothing." **

**Thor looked down and then up at the god of Mischief before he let himself be swept up by mirth. Thor's laugh echoed throughout his room. Loki grimaced, not liking to be laughed at. "Oh, Loki! I did not mislay my garments—I simply do not sleep with them, in the first place! They are far too restricting for a good night's slumber."**

**When Loki glared at him, all of his amusement drained away. As soon as it was gone, the god of mischief missed it. Thor, when he was serious, was not a god he liked to be around. "No one else is aware of Mjöllnir's absence…" Thor started. **

**Loki waved him off. "If you wish for me to assist you, I would like word Mjöllnir's nonattendance to remain that way. At least, until we are completely sure that it is gone. I do not feel like receiving a lashing for accusing the wrong persons; if we were to discover that ****_you _****simply misplaced your stupid toy—"**

**"Mjöllnir is not a ****_toy_****! And, I would not misplace something as precious as my beloved hammer!" Thor snapped defensively as he stamped his mighty foot upon the marble. It cracked under his strength. Loki recoiled at the god of thunder's blatant display of brute-strength. "We shall go to Freya; she shall know how we will go about locating Mjöllnir…" Thor explained, more to himself than Loki. Nodding at his plan, he went for the door.**

**"Thor—wait!" Loki called after him. When Thor turned around, he noted that the raven-haired god was looking pointedly towards Thor's dresser. "Make yourself proper first. You need not stalk around the castle as if it is a pleasure-house and you were its prized whore!" **

**Thor nodded, "You are right, Loki." He went to the chest of drawers and pulled out some clothes. Holding the clothes over his modesty, Thor looked at Loki innocently. "I shall meet you in the hall, yes?" **

**Loki rolled his eyes. Thor dared to act shy now? Where was this decorum before he flashed Loki his … ****_erm_****… privates? "Yes, I will be there. It isn't as if I have anything to do right now."**

* * *

**Freya's dwelling was even more luxurious and thrice times more spacious than Thor's and Loki's chambers combined. Only the finest polished metals; largest sterling jewels; sturdiest structures of wood; thickest and warmest pelts; and the most lustrous tapestries gained the privilege of ornamenting the chamber. Freya's handmaidens were robed in beautiful, draping garbs and bedecked with shimmering brooches. The lot of the maidens hummed as they flitted about the grand hall; heading this a-way and that a-way as they waited hand-and-foot on their mistress… who seemed absent today?**

**"Where could she have gone?" Loki asked as he peered carefully into the room from where he stood at the entranceway. The god of mischief spotted a few of the young damsels who waited-on Freya carrying a heavy-seeming chest into the goddess' bedchamber. The thick, silken curtain that divided the two spaces fluttered as countless beauties went to splay it open for the two carrying the impenetrable bronze casket. **

**Loki snapped his fingers as an idea came to mind. Peaking behind him, the raven-haired male waved Thor over. "Go offer them your aid." He said as he pointed to the handmaidens.**

**"How will assisting them—" Thor started to complain when Loki punched him as hard as he could in the chest. The fair-haired god looked unaffected by the hit; whereas Loki was clutching his hand and cursing his own ignorance. **

**As the humans would say; ****_he should have seen that coming_****. **

**"Just do as I say, Thor!" Loki commanded as he nursed his aching knuckles in his mouth. **

**The god of thunder shrugged before he shoved passed Loki and entered the grand hall. "Maidens!" He called out—his thunderous voice boomed throughout the chamber and vibrated the many fixtures within it.**

**The damsels did not even flinch. A few put aside their work, as they flitted towards Thor and greeted him with pretty smiles. "My Prince…" One of them said as she curtsied. The rest of them bowed behind her. The trinkets in their hair glimmered and tinkled in the light. **

**Thor covered his eyes as the light reflecting off their ornaments tried in vain to steal away his sight. With splotches of color dancing about his vision, the god of thunder gestured for all the handmaidens to return to their duties. "I am not here to distract you lot from work… alas, your mistress has forbid me from taking any of you to bed." **

**A few of them laughed. **

**Thor was as charming as he was absentminded. Loki gritted his teeth, realizing that they would get nowhere fast if he left everything up to Thor. He had been sarcastic, when he said that he hadn't anything to do that day. There were a many that needed to be pranked and Loki was behind schedule as it stood. **

**Steeling his nerves, Loki stepped into the hall and made a beeline for Thor. Clutching the greater god's massive arm, Loki whispered. "We have something to attend to, Thor, they can wait." **

**The handmaidens watched the two exchange whispers. Suddenly, the damsels began to natter amongst themselves in low, trilling tones. Their voices were like bells chiming in a slight breeze. **

**Loki just couldn't stand it. **

**"Leave us!" He commanded. **

**Obeying, the maidens took off in a many directions. Some went back to their assigned tasks; whilst others disappeared into Freya's bedchamber.**

**Once they were gone, Loki glared at Thor. "This isn't the time or the place for your usual tactics, Thor…!" **

**The god of thunder smirked at him before crossing his arms. "And what are my so-called ****_'usual tactics',_**** dearest brother?" —**

* * *

Max interrupted the story with a raise of her hand. Loki looked like he was going to burst out of his skin; he was so enraged by the intermission. "WHAT?" He barked at the dark-haired woman.

She recoiled, dropping her hand onto her lap and timidly stating what was on her mind: "I have to go to the bathroom."

A vein made itself apparent in Loki's forehead. "It can surely wait…" He sneered.

Max shook her head urgently. "No… no, it can't. I have to pee, _now!"_ Her legs crossed as she said this.

Loki had half a mind to tell her to remain seated until her bladder blasted to bits but Thor was putty in the mortal woman's hands. "You may go, Lady Darcy." The god of thunder said softly as he sat back casually against the headboard of the bed.

Malleable and pathetic—so willing to assist the likes of mortals… Jane of Foster ruined him. Loki would be paying her a visit. The god of mischief burned with wicked delight as he thought of the many ways he would break Jane. Thor gave him the side-eye only after Loki had begun uttering curses under his breath.

While Max was gone to the bathroom, Pepper took the opportunity to rejoin everyone at Tony's bedside. As she went to check his vitals, Steve put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He'll be fine, Virginia." The super-soldier assured. Pepper wanted to believe him, but having come so close to losing Tony several times…

The ginger-haired woman shrugged Steve's hand off, her eyes were watering. She checked on Tony as planned. He was still breathing… his monitors said he was fine. She sighed before slinking off miserably. Falling onto the couch in a heap of exhaustion—both physical and emotional—she looked at the back of Thor's head. "So, you sleep naked, huh?" She asked though she did not seem as though she cared for the answer.

Barton laughed when Thor nodded plainly. "I always figured you for a footy-pajama kind of guy." His smile didn't linger a moment longer than it needed.

Natasha's impassive expression and Thor's confusion made sure of that. "You know… footy-pajamas? It's like a jumpsuit of cotton make for children; anyone knows what I'm talking about?"

Those who did remained quiet.

"Are you suggesting that I am a child, Barton?" Thor asked, clasping Mjöllnir tighter in his calloused palm.

The archer looked alarmed momentarily before he snapped: "Why is everyone trying to start a fight with me!? I am wholly surprised that it isn't me in that bed instead of Tony!" Clint shouted, slamming his fist on his knee.

Natasha rolled her eyes as she leaned back in her chair. "Nobody likes a drama-queen."

"For once, I am inclined to agree with you." Loki stated coolly.

Max returned from the bathroom soon after and found that her original spot—which was laying at the foot of the bed; using Tony's ankles as pillows—had been taken by Pepper, who had wised up and seized the position a fraction of a second before Max reemerged in the room. All the places by Thor had been taken! Boo!

The recliner was being occupied by Bruce; who was having a helluva time adjusting the massage settings on it. The chairs were taken by Barton and Natasha. Thor and Loki were lying on the bed on either side of Tony; their legs drawn up to keep from kicking Pepper.

The divan was being occupied by Steve and Alice—who, now that she was sober and sitting upright, didn't seem as small as Max assumed she was.

The couch was too far away from the bed so that was out.

Stomping her foot, the dark-haired woman complained. "Where am I s'pposed to sit, now?"

Everyone was quiet until Alice cleared her throat and looked pointedly at Steve. The super-soldier shrugged. The auburn-haired woman looked over to Max. "You can sit with us, Darcy. I think we can make some more room for you." Alice said smiling as she scooted in the seat until she was practically sitting on Steve's lap.

Max took the vacated spot with a grateful gesture. Once she was settled, she turned to thank Alice and found herself laughing as she watched Steve shift his legs around under the other woman's weight. "She's not teeny tiny, after all…" Max started to say.

The super-soldier cut her off. "Don't start with that, again, Max!"

Loki grumbled, "So, shall we continue the story—or, do the rest of you wish to take advantage of this intermission…"

Before he was even finished speaking, everyone able-bodied got up and left in a flurry of movement.

"Perhaps, they went to procure refreshments?" Thor reasoned.


	4. Angry women

**Author's note: Blah, I've been feeling under the weather since this morning. Writing and posting has been a good way to keep my mind off of it but I think I might just pass out, one of these moments. So, as I rub my tired eyes and wonder why I put on eyeliner today, I just wanted to say that I've had a lot of fun writing this but not nearly enough fun beta'ing this. **

**My sister helps correct the spelling/grammar-mistakes but she ****_loathes_**** this story with all her might because, apparently, all I can write is crap. So I shan't ask her to beta for me any longer! **

**... D: In short, this story is going to start looking ****_really, really _****bad towards the end. My apologies in advance; I promise that I'll fix everything after I'm finished with this. :)**

**Anyways—thanks to all that are following this! We're getting to the end, you guys, and I think I'm about to slump into writer's block after it does!**

* * *

"Dispute not with her: she is lunatic." ― William Shakespeare.

* * *

_Recap: Once [the handmaidens] were gone, Loki glared at Thor. "This isn't the time or the place for your usual tactics, Thor…!" The raven-haired male seethed. _

_Thor raised a brow as he smirked at Loki. Crossing his arms, he said: "And what are my so-called 'usual tactics', dearest brother?"—_

**"Charming maidens and keeping up trouble, of course." Freya quipped as she graced the room with her radiant-beauty. As she walked towards them with an air of elegance that was only matched by few; her pristine silvery-white frock trailed behind her. It, the train of the gown, was so long that a few maidens had to carry the excess fabric rolled up in their arms. **

**Her long, iridescent tresses shifted and swayed with each step she took and the brilliant circlet that rested upon said curls caught the light that was pouring through the high-windows and made Freya look as though she was glowing. **

**The diadem that adorned her head matched her beloved Brísingamen in color but the amulet still surpassed it in greatness. Her thick spiraling locks were as soft and as shiny as a slip of the finest silk and as deeply colored as an inferno, bound up in a fancy chignon. **

**Usually, Freya had left her hair down; letting her mane flow as it may down her back. It was so long that it cascaded well beyond the prominent curve of her lower-back and down even further, until it was nearly brushing the floor. **

**She looked stunning as she caressed Brísingamen with one exquisite hand and greeted the bickering pair with the other. A slight smile graced her beautiful lips as she came to stand beside the youthful gods. **

**Thor looked flustered but genuinely happy to see Freya. He completely forgot about his and Loki's little exchange of the moment previous. Bowing courteously, he spoke: "My lady… I apologize on my and Loki's behalf for appearing on such short notice—" Freya waved him off. Thor cleared his throat. "—but, seeing as the circumstances are dire; we had no other choice but to seek your aid." **

**She raised an eyebrow. **

**Loki quickly went to take charge of the discussion. "Do keep this matter discreet, Freya. It would be in our best interest that no one would become aware of this situation until Thor and I are certain that something is truly awry." **

**Freya started: "Has Heimdall—" **

**Loki interrupted her with a shake of his head. Instantly, the goddess looked worried. But even then she was still a stunning creature. "What is it? Surely, it ****_must_**** be a matter of great importance if it has made you come seek me out with such concern." Freya's hand tightened on her amulet. **

**Thor laid a comforting hand on her shoulder as he frowned deeply. "Mjöllnir has vanished."**

**For a moment, Freya wore the same expression Loki had when he heard of the news. But she was wise enough not to ask if Thor hadn't just misplaced it. She had been around the block enough times to know how the fair-haired god would react if you accused him of being forgetful. ****_Even though, Thor could be scatterbrained at times._**

**"What would you have me do then if I can speak of this matter with no one?" She asked with an eyebrow raised.**

**Thor seemed to have been stumped by her words. **

**Loki shook his head, marveling at just how empty the space between his step-brother's ears was. The god of mischief folded his arms; trying to look more casual than he did exasperated. "Let us borrow your feather cape and I shall go about enquiring of Mjöllnir." Loki explained.**

**Freya smiled a smile of mischief all her own. "If I am not to speak of the matter to anyone then why do you intend to? Would that not defeat the purpose of keeping this state of affairs surreptitious?" **

**Thor laughed, his appearance of solemnity drifting away with the changing wind. **

**Loki glared openly at the goddess, "Do you take me for a fool, Freya!?" When she smirked even wider at him, the raven-haired man boiled. "Well I am not a jester so you would do best not waste your laughter on me!"**

**Thor clapped Loki on the back. "But, you are the god of mischief, are you not? Japes, bedlam, and tomfoolery are what you live for, dear brother." **

**The raven-haired man spun on his heel as he made to smack Thor silly. "Do not assist her in her mockery!" He shouted. **

**Thor caught his step-brother's wrist easily and spun him back around. Pinning Loki to his chest and then trapping the god in the cage of his great arms, Thor's countenance was somber, once more. "Jests aside, Freya; would you be so kind as to lend Loki your cloak? I insist that he will return it."**

**Freya sighed before she took on an air of seriousness. Waving a handmaiden over, the goddess tasked the damsel to retrieve her Falcon cape. When the young maiden had fled into Freya's chambers, the goddess looked to Thor with a twinkle in her eyes. "Dearest, Thor… I would bestow my cloak onto you; if gold it were and I would trust it to you, even if were silver." When the handmaiden returned with the cloak draped over her arms, Freya took it from her and gestured for her to go. Looking over to Loki, Freya frowned a little. "Conversely, I would not trust Loki with the air I breathe…"**

**The god of mischief hissed at her. "Just give me the damned cloak!" Thor looked affronted for the goddess but he did not speak as it wasn't his place to punish Loki for his ill-manners… **

**_Who was he trying to fool with his untruthful gallantry? Thor squeezed Loki's captured wrist until it felt as though the bones were about to snap! _**

**Freya motioned for Thor to release Loki before she handed her prized cloak to the raven-haired god.**

**Loki huffed, throwing the cloak onto his shoulders and taking off out the window. As he flew, the many feathers let out a long serious of whistles. It was a pretty little sound; made sweeter by the bell-like whispers of the damsels. **

**Thor felt relaxed as he listened to the sounds echo throughout the chamber. **

**All the handmaidens gathered under the window, their eyes blown wide with awe as they watched Loki set out. "Where does he depart to, my lady?" One of them asked curiously.**

**Freya sighed, "To Jötunheim… Loki, I am afraid, was always of the predictable sort." She turned to Thor and placed a delicate hand on his shoulder. "Let us hope, for your sake, that he isn't as predictable to the Jötnar."**

* * *

**The whistling of Freya's cloak annoyed Loki to no end. The shrill sound rushed into his ears with the swiftest of winds and echoed through his skull until his head was pounding with the beginnings of an atrocious migraine. As soon as his feet touched to the grounds of Jötunheim, the god of mischief eagerly yanked the mantle off his shoulders. "I ought to curse this before I give it back..." As Loki scanned his mind for the best kind of hex, he did not notice that he was being watched. **

**High upon the rolling tumuli that went on almost out of sight, sat the Jötunn Þrymr. He was plaiting golden collars for his finest bitches and grooming his horses when he spotted Loki quarrelling with the bundle of feathers in his arms.**

**From the distance, it looked as though he was arguing with a great chicken. Þrymr; thinking that was the funniest thing he had ever seen, laughed aloud before calling out to the seething god of mischief. "Why is it that you are alone in Jötunheim, Loki? Is there something amiss among the Æsir and the Elves?" His tone-of-voice went from humored to slightly fretful. **

**Loki glanced up at the Jötunn and quickly stuffed Freya's cloak into his trousers. ****_He would never do anything as undignified as that—but, at the moment, he was very desperate._**** "Oh, I hadn't noticed you there, Þrymr." Straightening his back, the god of mischief slicked his hair back with a free hand. "Nothing is amiss with the elves and the Æsir… but, I fear there will be an abundant amount of suffering to go around, soon enough." **

**Þrymr raised a questioning brow. Loki quickly went on to supply the Jötunn with more information. "Mjöllnir, my brother's most prized possession, has vanished seemingly into thin air." **

**The tension bled from Þrymr's posture as the Jötunn listened to Loki. "Ah, you needn't worry, too much. I can assure you that Mjöllnir has not fallen into the hands of an enemy." It was Loki's turn to look questioning. Þrymr smiled haughtily. "I have Thor's hammer—and before you think you can charm it away from me, I will let you know that you cannot have it. It has been secreted away, eight leagues beneath the earth." His grin grew wider when Loki's jaw tensed. "Do not fret, Loki. I shall have my people retrieve it at Thor's behest—on the condition that Freya is given onto me as a consort."**

**Loki gave Þrymr an expression that read as, ****_"Bitch, you must be crazy!" _**

**But, the god of mischief would never speak in ways as unrefined as that ****_because he wasn't a boorish serving-girl with a penchant for blathering on and on like an old woman that did not know when to inject her two-cents into the story –_**

* * *

"Loki! If you will not tell the tale truthfully then I shall do it." Thor boomed, reaching over Tony's head and tugging Loki's overgrown obsidian-colored locks warningly.

The god of mischief hissed before trying to swipe his step-brother's hand away. "And, how would you go about doing so; if you were not there, in Jötunheim, Thor?" Loki turned his head and tried to bite Thor's hand. The blonde's grasp on his hair tightened and then Thor yanked! Not hard enough to pull it out, but hard enough to get his point across. Loki shrieked in pain—

* * *

**Loki schooled his expression before shaking his head. "Þrymr, I do believe you are as devious as you are daring." With that, he turned his back to the Jötunn and pulled Freya's cloak from his trousers. It looked wrinkled; the feathers were all bent out of shape. Loki smirked, thinking that; ****_"yes, this would be the condition in which he returned it to that smug …"_**

**Flinging the mantle onto his shoulders, Loki took off. As he flew back to the court of the gods, the feathers tune was more agonizing than before. The wind whistling through the quills was broken and wretched. The god of mischief's head pounded and his ears very well bled at the noise.**

**When Loki returned, he found Thor waiting for him. The god of thunder was fidgeting whilst he sat on a sturdy marble bench. He looked the definition of gloomy. Loki felt inclined to comfort his step-brother but decided against it. The meekest shows of affection would lead Thor to think that Loki actually ****_liked_**** him. And he couldn't have that; Thor would never leave him in peace if the fair-haired god assumed that Loki actually ****_wanted_**** to be around him. **

**Clearing his throat to bring Thor's contemplations to a halt, Loki spoke with a graceful flare of his hand. "I have returned, dearest brother." **

**Thor's head snapped up and as soon as he spotted Loki, the god sprang up from his chair. His cerulean eyes were wide; reflecting his emotions as though they were a looking glass. "What has happened, Loki? Have you located Mjöllnir?" Thor sounded frantic as he made his inquiries. **

**Loki, putting his own thoughts in order, made to land—but, was interrupted by Thor. "Tell me now, Brother; while the news is still fresh in your memory. Tales often escape a man who sits; and a man reclining often voices naught but dishonesties." **

**Loki rolled his eyes, prepared to challenge Thor's alleged wisdom when he caught the look of pleading in the god of thunder's eyes. He sighed. "Though, it was quite an effort—I was going half-mad listening to this blasted cloak." He shrugged his shoulders and the feathers whistled brokenly. Thor flinched at the sound, covering his ears as he did so. Loki continued, "I am pleased to inform you that it my travel was a success, for I have uncovered Mjöllnir's whereabouts."**

**"Where? Where is it, Loki!?" Thor asked, approaching the slighter god with long strides. Outreaching his hand, the god of thunder caught Loki by his frail wrist and yanked him down until he was standing upon the ground once more. "Who has dared to take ****_my _****greatest possession? No matter how great the foe; I shall kill them!"**

**Loki grimaced as he swatted Thor's hand away and straightened his clothes out. Once he looked presentable, he revealed to Thor the taker of Mjöllnir. "**Þrymr** holds it. And he says that the only circumstance for which it will be retrieved is if Freya is taken to him as his wife."**

**Thor looked grave. "Then, we should inform her of this development with haste."**

**Freya was all divine fury when they returned to her. "What is this you say!?" She shouted; irate and offended as she held her damaged cloak in her arms. "You put my feather cloak in your ****_trousers? _****I should have you hanged and stricken by all the gods in the court, Loki!"**

**The god of mischief did not even flinch at her words. Thor, however, looked as though he was ready to tremble. "My lady…" He started meekly. "Though it is a great tragedy that an ill fate has befallen your cloak… we have more pressing matters to attend to."**

**Freya calmed for the moment as she observed Thor guardedly. "And what would such matters be? Have you found Mjöllnir?" Her eyes were piercing; like a spear. This time the god of mischief found it within himself to be worried. **

**Stepping behind Thor, in case Freya was to react in the way he assumed, Loki waited for what was to come. **

**"Yes, Loki has located Mjöllnir… in Jötunheim… with Þrymr… to ensure the safe return of it; Þrymr requests you as his bride." Thor informed stiffly. "Please, do outfit yourself in the proper bridal headdress and we will deliver you to him, in Jötunheim." **

**For a moment, all was silent in the chamber and Loki dared to step out from the cover of Thor's great form. He halted his movement as he caught the enraged look upon Freya's face. She looked almost unrecognizable as her features twisted and roiled with unrestrained wrath. **

**Before Loki could manage another blink, Freya soared into a great rage. It was so great that even the halls of Æsir quavered. Thor stumbled backwards and almost knocked Loki over as the two of them reacted to the ground quaking under their feet. **

**The chain that held Brísingamen around her neck snapped as though it were made of the bone of a chicken. The brilliant necklace fell to the floor; where it clattered deafeningly loud. **

**Getting something of a hold on herself at hearing Brísingamen land on the ground, Freya seethed a little bit more quietly. The hall settled as she smoothed her hands out over the softness of her frock. Taking in a few deep breaths, she regarded both Thor and Loki with burning eyes. "You and Loki come and go at the beck-and-call of your lovers, do you not?" They both nodded carefully. "Nevertheless, can you not understand how shameless I shall appear, if I journeyed with you lot to Jötunheim at the command of a lustful giant?"**

**Thor nodded plainly. Though, he wanted to challenge Freya's objection; the god of thunder knew it better not to engage in a bout of any sort with the goddess. "I understand your reasoning but what shall I do to retrieve Mjöllnir, if you shan't go?"**

**Loki massaged his throbbing forehead. "I may have an idea…"**

* * *

**As serious as the issue had become; no longer could they keep the matter of Mjöllnir's absence concealed. Loki, Thor, and Freya, along with all the other gods converged into the grandest hall of them all and held a thing to deliberate and examine the matter at hand. **

**They bickered and argued amongst themselves for what a mortal would deem as a lifetime. Frigga was on the verge of a headache and was prepared to take her leave when Heimdall finally had enough and stood abruptly from his chair.**

**It screeched as the heavy stone slid across unyielding granite. Everyone flinched. Everyone except Heimdall. **

**"I have a proposal!" He announced; his deep voice resounding throughout the hall momentarily before it escaped through the skylight built expertly into the high, domed-ceiling. All the gods grew quiet as they waited to hear his scheme. Heimdall's great horned helmet shone in the light of the setting-sun as the man leaned over the table and pointed accusingly at Thor. "You—you shall go in the place of Freya, Thor!" **

**Everyone gasped taken completely aback! **

**"Since, it is****_ your_**** hammer that is within the clutches of the Jötnar; ****_you_**** should present your own self to Þrymr as a bride!" **

**Thor threw his arms up angrily. How dare Heimdall make such demands of him!? "To Hel with you Heimdall and your accursed plots!" The fair-haired god flared with rage as the other balked and scolded him for his intense reaction. "Do not tell me how to conduct myself—I shall act in response to your demands with indignation and outrage, if I wish to!" **

**Loki sat back and watched the two exchange heated words with a wide smirk. This certainly made up for the day of trickster-antics that he missed out on. When the argument slowly escalated to the point of physical violence, Loki was nudged by Sif—Thor's stunning consort, the goddess of War—who was sitting beside him and told to break up the fight. **

**Rolling his eyes, the god of mischief stood and laid a hand on Thor's shoulder. "Brother, calm your storm. You are not a savage; but a god—are you not?" The god of thunder nodded, the hate in his eyes roiling like a violent tempest. Loki squeezed his arm soothingly. "Then do behave as such." Thor sighed before returning to his seat. **

**Freya shot him pointed stares and Thor knew her earlier wrath to be just. **

**Being asked to slaughter a village was easy. Being ordered to give yourself up to a Jötunn was anything but. **

**Thor gave her an apologetic frown and Freya settled in her seat. **

**Loki sat back down and grabbed Thor's hands in his own, smaller ones. Loki knew Thor would try to hit him and so he held on as tightly to Thor's hands as he could. The god of thunder stared at their entwined fingers and then back up at Loki. ****_"Brother, please refrain from your peculiar shows of affection in front of Sif…"_**** He hissed.**

**Loki waved him off, ****_"Silence, Thor!" _****before returning to the original subject. "Brother as unorthodox as Heimdall's plot is, I do believe that he is onto something." **

**Thor went white with anger; his hands shoot out of Loki's grasp and the god of mischief only had a fraction of a second to duck the punch Thor directed at his face. "Calm yourself, Thor!" Loki hollered when the fair-haired divinity caught him by his overlong hair. **

**"Thor! ENOUGH!" Odin called from the head of the massive table. His reprimanding tones ricocheted up the length of the tabletop and rung Thor's ears a moment before he started to choke Loki. "If you are to murder your brother; you shall do it sometime else." ****_Father did not say this…? Oh, yes, he did… I do not recall… Of course you don't. You were in too much of a rage to hear him, dearest brother._**

**After Loki straightened himself out, the god of mischief tried once again to convince Thor. "Brother, do not fret so. You shall not be sent to Jötunheim on your own. I shall escort you." His words seemed to have the opposite effect. Thor seethed. Loki scoffed: "If it strokes your mighty ego, Thor; I mean to be garbed as a pretty handmaiden. You will get to command me around throughout the duration of our visit."**

**The fair-haired god settled only then. "You will? … I can?" When Loki nodded, a bright smile graced Thor's features, making him look younger than usual. It was a welcoming sight; like the sun peeking out between dark, roaring storm clouds. "What shall you wear, exactly?" Thor asked curiously.**

**Loki bristled, "Do not worry your pretty little head about me, Thor. ****_You _****are the blushing bride, remember?"**

* * *

**Thor wore a foreboding look of dismay as well as he wore the effects of a bride. Frighteningly well. He was outfitted in a fine, graceful gown that covered his masculine form the best it could; decorated in a many jewels and his flaxen hair was combed out and then adorned with a bridal headdress. **

**Due to his raging, Thor's beard had been left untouched and so they draped a veil over his face to keep it from being seen. As Thor stood before the mirror, the god of thunder wondered how thoughtless his fellow gods must have believed the Jötnar to be. He looked as much a woman as Loki did a goat. "I will never get Mjöllnir back…" Thor said morosely.**

**One of the damsels spraying him with sweet fragrances swatted at his hand as Thor went to fuss with his headdress. "My prince, you aren't to bother that." She scolded gently. **

**Thor sighed wholly irritated. After the maidens were finished, Thor sent them off and grimaced as his wrists jingled and jangled with jewelry. As soon as they took their leave, Thor turned away from the mirror and sauntered over to a bench, where he sat and took off his shoes. They were a size too small and completely wrong for his feet. ****_They were shoes for a maiden, of course they were uncomfortable._**

**Rubbing his aching toes, Thor heard someone enter the room. "What is it now?" He groaned as he looked up and found himself staring at a rather lovely maid he hadn't seen before. **

**Her skin was as white as snow and looked iridescent against her long flowing hair, which as black as the night sky and wreathed with a jeweled veil. Her lips were red as blood and quirked up in the corners. "Do my eyes deceive me or does our lovely bride have cold feet?" She alleged mockingly as she advanced on Thor like a predator would have closed in on an unsuspecting quarry. Her deep emerald frock clung to her long, lanky-form and shifted with every step she took. **

**Thor watched her warily. This maiden stirred such strong feelings in his chest but not those of longing or admiration… for some reason; Thor wanted to punch her in the face. Once she was standing within arm's reach, Thor could see derisive mirth sparklingly in her bright green eyes. Ah, and now he knew why he wanted to cuff her… **

**Thor exhaled as he angrily scrubbed his face. "Loki, I am in no mood for your jests." He complained as his step-brother laughed and took a spot on the bench beside him. **

**Loki wrapped his arms around Thor like a long, pretty vine and the god of thunder let his shoulders sag. **

**The raven-haired god smiled into the folds of Thor's sleeve as he basked in the greater male's misery. Loki usually had to do something to Thor to prompt such a sullen mood from him but it seemed as though Heimdall and the other gods were keen to torture Thor on their own. **

**Suddenly, his smirk slipped away when he realized that after this was all said and done, Thor would rage at the others instead of him. In short; Loki would receive none of the glory for this wondrous kick in the teeth to Thor's masculinity! **

**The god of mischief sagged, suddenly losing all his steam. What was the point of being a part of this scheme, if he didn't get to rub Thor's face in it later? ****_It made for a fantastic tale in the future; so, it was not all for naught! _****Andfor Valhalla's sake, Loki was wearing a dress, too! Loki leaned more heavily on Thor. "We are to depart as soon as you are ready…"**

**The god of thunder sighed before standing and bringing Loki to his feet along with him. ****_"If we are to go through with this, Brother, we will do this with style!—"_**

* * *

It was Thor's turn to look disrespected at being interrupted. Looking to Bruce, who was smiling innocently around the neck of his Coca-Cola bottle, the god of thunder huffed: "Would you like to tell the story, Bruce of Banner?"

The scientist shook his head in polite refusal. "Nah, Thor, you're good. I have a few questions, though, if you and Loki don't mind…"

The two gods look miffed but remained silent as they waited for Banner to speak. "Thor, if you're married to Sif; why are you dating Jane?"

For being one of Jane's closest friends, Max didn't seem all too hurt to discover this news. Instead, she seemed rather amused. "Whoa, you're married to the goddess of War and yet, you're bangin' my best friend—? That's crazy. Jane must be good in the sack, after all…"


	5. Epilogue of Winterfell!

**A/N: After virtually a year, I can finally say that this is finally complete.**

* * *

**Thor and Loki made ready for their meeting with Þrymr, journeyed to** **Jötunheim at the haste of Thor's most trusted mounts, Tanngrisnir and Tanngnjóstr; his beloved goats who of which pulled his magnificent chariot and aided him on a many voyages. They arrived in Jötunheim in good time and were received by vast amounts of the jötnar. Þrymr stood at the forefront of their flock, his face drawn with enthusiasm as he watched Thor's chariot come to a stop before them. Tossing an order of his shoulder for the other giants to spread straw on the benches, for ****_Freya_**** had come to be wed to him, Þrymr turned with his arms outstretched to greet Thor and Loki for himself. **

**"My lovely bride!" Þrymr chirped, taking Thor's hand and helping the god of thunder from his chariot much to his dismay. "You have come at long last." When Thor found his footing, he hoped that the giant would let go of him but, alas, he did not. Squeezing Thor's hand all the more tightly, Þrymr rejoiced: "I finally have all that I desire. Acreage, jewelries, horses and all things of that nature—and now, I shall have you as well, M'lady; truly, I am the gladdest man in all of the nine worlds; if not the most fortunate too!" **

**Thor's face scrunched up in distaste as he snatched his hand from Þrymr's. When the giant balked at his rudeness, Thor curtsied clumsily in apology. "I am… not feeling well." He lied; voice wavering between his pathetic attempt at a woman's voice and that of his own masculine-sounding one. Þrymr did not seem to notice. He smiled sympathetically before rubbing Thor's shoulder soothingly.**

**"I see… I should not have called upon you on such short notice." He sounded apologetic but his tone did nothing to assuage Thor's irritation. "I hope your travel did not fatigue you too much? I have much intended for our honeymoon!"**

**Thor almost struck Þrymr in the face at the giant's implications, if not for Loki appearing at his side to squeeze his hand discreetly. "Pardon my intrusion, my Lord," Loki said with a flutter of his eyelashes, making Prymr blush as the god of mischief fixed him with a gaze most coquettish. "But is there not a place for the goddess to get her bearings before the ceremony?" **

**"Ah, yes…" Þrymr cleared his throat before beckoning one of his servants over. "Take Lady Freya and her handmaiden to the guest's chambers, the Goddess is feeling unwell."**

**The Jotnar raised her brow as she regarded 'Freya' with wary eyes. "Will she be joining you for supper, M'lord?" **

**Þrymr snapped at the servant. "Of course! Now go, insolent girl!"**

**Thor and Loki barely had a moment to themselves before they were summoned to dinner with Þrymr; the latter warning his step-brother continually that, if he continued to act like a ****_brooding prat_**** they would surely be discovered as they walked through the grand and spacious halls of Þrymr's ostentatious domicile. **

**In the dining hall, Loki pulled out Thor's chair for him and then took the seat beside him. They sat at the far end of the high-polished and meticulously-decorated table, sitting on the opposite side of Þrymr in winged-chairs that were so much nicer than the ones in Asgard. ****_If only due to personal preference..._**

**"I have prepared a feast most grand for you, my beloved." Þrymr informed, waving the servants over so that they may take turns bedecking the table with an assortment of fine meals. And though Thor was still righteously enraged, his mouth watered as plates were covered with meats and cakes and all manners of delicious-looking food.**

**Mindful not to spook any of the Jötnar that sat with in them on their meal, Thor daintily accepted a chalice filled with a fine red spirit and sipped suspiciously from the cup as he peered over its golden brim at the eager giants who watched him. **

**Loki cleared his throat as he stared down into the bottom of his own chalice at the murky red liquid within it. "… My Lord, this surely cannot be any wine that ****_I_**** have ever seen before?" He commented, noting the peculiar nature of the drink.**

**Þrymr laughed. "What would you know, Maiden? This is far too rich for your Asgardian blood—it is of Jötnar creation; the strongest spirit in all the nine worlds!" **

**Loki tried not to look affronted as he hesitantly took a sip of the thick, almost viscous, contents of his chalice. As the pseudo-gelatinous spirit burned his skin on contact, Loki had had half a mind to spit it out but resolved not to as that would be insulting and he wasn't tactless like his idiot step-brother, Thor; who had, by now, gotten smashed off of the far too many glasses of the stuff and had taken to making a gigantic ass out of not only himself but Freya as well. **

**Cursing as he waved his empty tankard, Thor demanded more to drink. Loki, dropping his own chalice onto the table as he trembled with incredulity, turned to Þrymr to see if the ice giant had become wise to their scheme. The Jötnar raised his brow as he observed ****_Freya_****'s unbecoming behavior—and by the time they got to the main course of the meal, his eyebrow was nearly lost in his hairline.**

**_Freya_**** ate like a woman gone mad: consuming entire animals in almost virtually one bite; drinking even some of Þrymr's most famed drinking buddies under the table as ****_she_**** consumed whole casks of mead and spirits on her own; talking with her mouth filled with food and spraying guests with her half-masticated meal; stomping and jeering at her own foul jokes. One of the Jötnar diplomats attending the wedding fainted when ****_Freya_**** leant against the table and flirted with his daughter. **

**Þrymr reached under the table to caress his betrothed's knee to try and calm her down and found a fork stabbed in the back of the hand that rested atop the table. He shrieked, lurching backward and yanking the eating utensil from his hand. "Freya! My love, what has become of you?" **

**Loki, by then, was virtually hyperventilating. What in ****_Hel_**** did Thor think he was doing? Was he trying to get discovered? **

**Listening to Þrymr grouse about his intended's boorish conduct and how the goddess was nothing at all as he had thought her to be, Loki seized the opportunity to speak. "My Lord," He started, grabbing Þrymr's hands and turning the ice giant so that they were facing one another. "Please pardon the Lady Freya. She is still very much out of sorts as she has not eaten in eight entire days." He lied.**

**Þrymr balked. "Is that so? And why ever not!?" **

**Loki smiled gently. "She was very eager to arrive, My Lord, and would not eat, lest she ruined her appetite."**

**His words had the desired effect on the ice giant. Þrymr perked up, mouth drawing upward in a sly smirk as he watched ****_Freya_** **tear a turkey leg in half with her teeth. Clearing his throat, Þrymr gestured for his servants to clear away the table. When they were done, the Jötnar rose to his feet and beckoned for ****_Freya_**** to join him. **

**Thor got up dizzily, the world swimming before his veiled line of sight as he stood. Narrowly avoiding bowling Loki over as he moved to join Þrymr, the god of thunder scowled beneath his covering as he caught the lascivious look in the Jötnar's eyes. Extending his hand when Þrymr requested it, Thor's scowl deepened when the ice giant pressed a polite kiss to the back of it. If Þrymr thought himself to be charming, doting on Thor like a lecherous old man, he had another thing coming. **

**"My Love, I would be honored to gaze upon your face—to place a kiss upon your lips." Þrymr purred, releasing ****_Freya's_**** hand decidedly large hand to reach for her veil. **

**Thor audibly gagged at the Jötnar's words and he nearly stumbled backwards when he felt the covering on his face being lifted. Loki appeared at Thor's side then, his hand pressed to the fair-haired god's back to keep him still. ****_Or maybe Loki just wanted to touch him: who knows? _**

**Thor's eyes narrowed into thin slits, feeling the rush of fresh air upon his face as Þrymr lifted the veil completely. "Þrymr…" Thor grunted in a voice so masculine that it made the Jötnar startle. **

**Loki recoiled as well; turning around on his heel and kneeling behind Thor's stocky legs as he screamed into the folds of his own dress; half mad with laughter and astonishment—because how they were not yet discovered and slain for their insolence was a joke in and of itself and Loki couldn't keep himself from falling apart in an edgy ball of giggles and crazed glee. **

**Loki regained his poise shortly after when he heard Prymr shriek: "Your eyes, Lady Freya!" The Jötnar had every right to be afraid, for Thor's eyes were terrifying; seemingly burning with fire as they regarded the ice giant with unabashed hatred. Loki peered over Thor's shoulder and he too flinched at the god of thunder's eyes. **

**Þrymr was red in the face, ready to complain once more when Loki interjected: "Ah, My Lord… a thousand pardons for Lady Freya. She has not slept in eight nights, either." The god of mischief deceived once again, expression as good-willed as he could manage on the verge of another laughing fit. **

**No more words were exchanged as the Þrymr's wretched sister appeared, smirking as though she had been told the funniest joke in all of the nine worlds as she bounded up to them and asked for a bridal gift from ****_Freya_****. The surrounding Jötnar jumped to their feet when Þrymr called his servants to bring out Mjöllnir.**

**Thor almost walloped Þrymr over the head when the ice giant took his hand once more, purring filthy words of his plans for their honeymoon as he guided the god of thunder into a posh-looking chair that had been brought for the wedding ceremony. **

**Seated, Thor let his hands ball into fists as the Jötnar fell over each other while Þrymr's sister prepared to marry the two by the hand of the goddess Vár—or so she thought; little did any of the Jötnar know that the blushing bride was not whom she barely appeared to be. **

**As soon as Thor caught sight of Mjöllnir, the god of thunder cheered up greatly. Visibly giddy, he sat upright in his chair and giggled quietly to himself as his beloved hammer was placed onto his lap as the Jötnar "sanctified their bride."**

**Thor could've cried at feeling the comfortable weight of his darling hammer upon his legs. Eyes stinging with joyful tears, Thor seized Mjöllnir by the handle and surged to his feet. Singing happily, he smashed the hammer into Þrymr's face, knocking the ice giant onto his back with a bloody gurgle. "Brother, look! I have taken Mjöllnir back!" Thor cheered, hitting an approaching jötnar in the face and breaking his jaw as he spun around happily. **

**"Then we can get the Hel out of here, yes?" Loki scowled, pulling a dagger from his hosiery and arming himself against the oncoming horde of ice giants. **

**Thor twirled Mjöllnir in his grip before smirking viciously. "Not just yet, Brother, I would like to thank our hosts for their hospitality." **

* * *

—"And so, Loki and I slaughtered many a Jötnar before returning without harm to Asgard." Thor concluded the story with a grand flourish of his hands, very nearly hitting Tony's unconscious form with Mjöllnir as he did so.

Pepper screeched angrily. "Get that thing away from him, Thor!"

"My apologies," Thor said as he pulled his hammer into his lap.

Shortly after, the room was enveloped with conversation as the Avengers discussed what they had just heard. Max picked at her ear before she noticed Loki sliding off the bed and creeping toward the door. "Hey—where do you think you're going!?" She shouted.

Loki looked suspicious. "Nowhere… don't you look at me, you wench!" He screeched before dashing towards the window.

Natasha jumped to her feet, "Stop him!" She shouted pointing at the fleeing god.

Clint grabbed a nearby vase and chucked it at Loki; the god of mischief swatted out of the sky and zapped the archer with a stinging bolt of energy.

Steve threw Alice off his lap, prepared for battle.

Thor looked unfazed. "Calm yourselves, friends; let him have his fun—he cannot run far." Lifting his hand, the god of thunder yanked at the air and as though bound by an invisible rope, Loki was swept off his feet.

"You bastard!" The god of mischief yelled as he sprawled out on the floor. "If I broke my nose, you can kiss your man of Iron goodbye!"


End file.
